


The Fall

by LornaLane



Series: Quocumque Modo [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Mental Health Issues, Mild Language, Slow Burn, Will be very long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LornaLane/pseuds/LornaLane
Summary: Valeria Winters is the child of a wealthy pureblood family and a childhood friend of Draco Malfoy. Her young life has been one of privilege, sheltered from much of the darkness that begins to rapidly close in around her in her fifth year. She must learn to cope on her own, make difficult choices, and cling to the last few remnants of consistency she has by any means necessary.





	1. Epigraph

"What are we going to do?" 

He was lost, searching her expression for a hope of guidance that he knew she did not have. She breathed deep, not meeting his eyes.

"Whatever we need to. To any end."

She was resigned. Just as lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first stab at a proper fanfiction. I've always enjoyed OCs and found them interesting so decided to give it a shot myself. I find the character of Draco interesting and wanted to explore it more through the lens of an OC. Please note that this not an "OC turns Draco good" type story nor is it necessarily a happy one. At times the relationships may be rather dysfunctional, but I will not frame this as good or glorify it. If I manage, I want it to be more tragic than anything. Additionally, the OC is not an explicitly good person and that is by design. I will also do my very best to stick with canon characterizations and events, but will diverge in places and will have to make some stuff up on my own. It goes without saying, but I don't claim any of JKR's intellectual property as my own. I may also be slow to update and for that I apologize in advance. This story will go from the fifth-seventh years and I’m planning on having an epilogue type chapter at the very end. Finally, if I neglected to tag something that is potentially triggering or upsetting, please let me know.


	2. Prologue: By Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm generally not a fan of prologues and I apologize for this one being so long. There's rather a lot of background that I didn't want to bog down the story proper with, so I opted for this for some exposition that's hopefully somewhat interesting to read.

“There’s power in a name,” Lucius Malfoy had once told his young son. Draco digested the words, believed them fully, and wove them into the fabric of his identity.

Draco didn’t remember meeting Valeria. Like his home and his family, she seemed to have just always _been_ ; one of life's givens. Their families were a part of each other’s worlds since before he could even form memories. Draco endured many visits over the years, both in Wiltshire and Wales where their mothers would often visit with each other, gossiping and laughing, and their fathers would have hushed conversations in private rooms which Draco had unsuccessfully tried to eavesdrop in on. 

Draco prided the acquaintance of the Winters family as soon as he had a concept of such things. Their name too held power. The remarkable similarity between the families made the few quiet differences between them starker. Like the Malfoys, the Winters’ influence was broad, but their patriarch, Hieronymus, favored a subtler approach to his dealings than did Lucius. From what Draco could observe, the Winters’ had invested substantially in many powerful pockets and had the ears of many powerful people, but they flaunted nothing. An air of dignified humility was the Winters way, as opposed to Lucius, who though well respected, it seemed, often favored fear over friendliness.

Draco didn’t know if he had befriended Valeria organically or due to proximity, or if the latter blossomed into the former. As a child, he was more desperate to impress Konstantin, Valeria’s brother seven years their senior, who was Draco’s role model besides his own father. Konstantin was was well spoken, polite and handsome with his light brown hair and his dark eyes, tall and lean. He was always doing well at school, loved by all his teachers and peers it seemed, the pride of the Winters family. He was charming and able to hold his own in adult conversations sat at heavy wooden tables in dimly lit rooms without sounding like an ignorant schoolboy. He was the type of young man who was liked by everyone he met, but what Draco admired most was that Konstantin was an excellent broomsman, making the Slytherin team and contributing to their success. But of course, to Draco’s childhood disappointment, Konstantin was never too interested in making friends with the young son of his parents’ friends.

As a result, Draco and Valeria were often charged with keeping each other company, as they were the closest in age. She was never too interested in Quidditch or flying; the one time he had tried to teach her resulted in an injury that had landed both of them in trouble. He did eventually grow to enjoy her presence. She was quick to tease him, and he teased back. She laughed a lot and smiled. Everything was interesting to her and she asked tons of questions, sometimes to his great annoyance. He called her _Val_  back then, and he was the only one who ever did, even as they progressed to Hogwarts. The shortened name noting a familiarity that existed almost exclusively between them.

She had another name second year that he first heard when she browsed the music section of Flourish and Blotts and excitedly brought to her mother a book she wanted.

“This won’t do darling, it’s much too new. Perhaps something older, with more classic compositions will be suitable,” Odessa Winters said. She was a short and petite woman who had grayed young, but wore it well, perfectly straight and to her shoulders. Valeria favored her mother in appearance, including the expression of disappointment on her face when Odessa handed the book back to her.

“But I wanted to try one of these,” Valeria politely protested, looking down at the book in her hands. Draco had looked over and Lucius too had taken notice.

“Our little songbird is auditioning for the choir this year,” Hieronymus said proudly. “Your mother is right, darling. The classics are your best bet. You just can’t go wrong.”

There was that name; _songbird_. Crestfallen, as grief-stricken as a 12-year-old could be, Valeria put the book back on a shelf and grabbed her parents’ preferred option, but not before giving her first choice one more longing look. Draco pulled it from the shelf without thinking and flipped through it. He knew little about music, but could see little difference in style, just more recent composers of less renown. Impulsively, he shuffled it in with his school books and in the chaos of that day, his father had not noticed the sneaky purchase. He sent her the book later, anonymously, but with a note to keep it a secret. She made the choir that year. He never told her he was responsible for the book. He wanted to, especially when she admonished him for one thing or another at school, but he never got around to gloating and it eventually slipped both their minds. He teased her sometimes, calling her _songbird_  whenever she had to go to practice to which she usually responded with a smirk and an eye roll.

 _Dollface_ was the next name he heard for her. That one started third year, but the comments about her appearance began at the start of the first. The Winters were always rather concerned with their appearances, in how they carried themselves and equally in how they looked. Valeria had looked much the same since she was very young: Long brown hair and a fringe that hung perfectly straight. Even if she had been playing all day, it never needed redoing. Draco didn’t think much on it, but he wasn’t completely unobservant. He had heard Odessa telling her daughter to smile or straighten her posture often, and at times it made him suspicious of something he could not place. A sort of eerie discomfort he could not yet describe. The comments amongst their peers came first from Ron Weasley while passing him in a corridor during first year.

“Why does her face look like that? She looks like a kid with a grown woman’s face! It’s scary.”

Draco had stuck his foot out and tripped Weasley for it, along with a lazy insult about red heads, before sauntering off. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but Weasley wasn’t wrong. Not a speck of acne or the hint of a blemish ever disgraced her face. Her eyes seemed to pop all the time even when she was ill or had been up too late doing homework. Her lips always looked softer, deeper in color than the others. Her skin tone was unnervingly even, and she wore a soft smile almost constantly, as if she was the only one privy to a joke. She was approachable, but dignified. No one that he knew, other than her family probably, had seen her look the least bit unkempt.

It was eerie for a child to look so freakishly perfect. But third year, approaching the age when looks seem to matter more than in childhood, a Hufflepuff that Draco never liked began talking to her more in class and in the halls. By that point she had gained a reputation for being a “nice Slytherin” amongst their peers, with charm and manners to back it. She would complain about the classmates she disliked in the safety of the Slytherin common room, but no one outside knew different. Even Potter and his lackies liked her alright, though Draco believed that was only because she would scold him when he “went too far.”

That Hufflepuff, whose name later escaped him, called her dollface and somehow the name caught on. It was when he heard it in mockery that Draco retaliated, he spilled ink on a Gryffindor’s homework in the library once and spouted insults at others when they passed in the halls. He never told her that they said it or that he fought back, nor did he know if it made them stop. Maybe she knew it all, but either way he was not about to stand for it. Nothing he did was heroic, he never directly stood up for her, but he felt proud of himself regardless feeling as though he was protecting his own. The third year ended in disaster. Draco and Valeria had their first big row over the business with the damn Hippogriff, their tempers erupting as they entered the whirlwind years of mid-adolescence. And much to Draco’s disdain, the conclusion of that year was the first time Potter and his lowlife friends began to like Valeria more.

Draco called her dollface once in the fourth year. He had asked her to the Yule Ball, quite proud of himself in that foolish juvenile way for having managed it. He was the first to ask her, but he knew there might have been others waiting for an opportune moment, as he had overheard a Ravenclaw git mention asking her. Draco told Valeria that his mother had encouraged him to ask her, practically forced him, but that was a stupid lie he made up in case she turned him down or only agreed to go out of politeness. Though, their mothers _were_ pleased with the news, gushing in their letters over how “adorable” they were. Draco didn't care for that, but did enjoy the satisfaction of having something others didn’t.

When they met in the common room and she wore deep purple dress robes, he had felt something for her he never had. A borage of confusing, conflicting feelings and sensations. He noticed that her skin looked soft, her smile was bright, she smelled nice, her eyes seemed to effortlessly glisten when she looked at him and it all made his mouth go dry. He blushed when he saw her that night, intimidated but desirous like he was meeting her all over again and for the first time. He had tried to be smooth, he called her dollface, and she had the manners to laugh it off. She was the superior dancer, well practiced, but it was all a show for her. She performed poise as she had been taught to do, as he would later come to learn, but that night was such a whirlwind of nerves and blissful delirium that he didn’t see it. They had snuck outside to a dark section of the castle when the party dwindled. She had done a bad thing, brought some mead stolen from her family cellar and they shared it, though neither could stomach more than a few sips at the time, laughing, relaxed. They had kissed that night, and cold noses touched cheeks warmed by blushing in the snow lit night.

Of course, that had to end. Immature with an ill-defined relationship, Draco screwed up the end of that year and she admonished him with such an ireful finality that they barely spoke that summer. The fifth year came along with a rocky start which only worsened the bad blood between them when she started seeing a Ravenclaw boy. The jealousy that only a teenage boy could understand fueled him. He hated seeing them together, the way he held her hand in the halls, how she laughed at the assuredly stupid things he said. It was a knife in Draco’s pride when that boy called her dollface, but Draco refrained from retaliating this time. Though, he could not be stopped in complaining to his friends, who asked after his envy, which Draco vehemently denied.

That ended when her world darkened. Draco always had his suspicions, though nothing he could know for sure, but she had been made entirely ignorant to so much. Her reputation, what she prided most, was shattered and she retreated to her friends in Slytherin. It was stupid, and he felt sympathy for her, truly, but he would be lying if he did not admit that he was happy she saw the light. That she belonged with her own kind and the others would never accept her friendship fully. He tried his best not to take advantage, she confided and trusted in him. He did care, but he did get satisfaction from it that boosted his ego. She used him too, a form of immature and misguided vengeance, a proclamation of where she stood. Draco did not care and who took advantage of whom in the end remained unclear.

It certainly wasn’t all awful. He asked her on a date, a real one, that year for the first time and it was the last time they enjoyed being around each other without something else getting in the way. The darkness that awaited them was nowhere on the horizon and though they were still volatile and he was a terrible boyfriend, he had never been happier. He milked it for all it was worth. They held hands in the halls, snogged in the corridors, snuck off to dark corners of the castle to be together in that reckless way that young people do. He boasted and he bragged, things she would have previously hated, but in her own anger she didn’t care. She was sure to tell him off when she wanted and he was respectful of her in the only way he knew how, in arrogance. But when they were alone, they could breathe easy. He called her dollface constantly.

The downward spiral that came abruptly and never ended was something he did not like to linger on. His blood ran cold just thinking on it. He stopped calling her Val for a reason he could not place, perhaps it felt too childish and disingenuous now. She quit the choir, no more songbird. Even her freakishly perfect face couldn’t mask the dead look in her eyes; he didn’t call her dollface at all sixth year, as it would have sounded more like an insult at that point. But now, at 17 and tragically young, she came to receive a new and final name. A title.

He was going to hate hearing her referred by it, introducing her by it. He felt sick already over it. All he could think was _"_ _not like this_. _"_ He had daydreamed of it fifth year some. That they would someday make their families enormously proud and become the most respected and powerful people in their corner of the wizarding world, with their ancient legacies and the support of those whose approval he valued most behind them. He wanted it all at one point or another, in the way of fleeting youthful fantasy, especially when he held her hand or when he would lie awake at night. But his brief daydreams did not include the twisted cost of her new name. The name that came with the dread of the responsibility thrust upon him, the promises he broke and the pain which had been inflicted upon her. They were tools, means to ends, mice in a trap and they only had each other now as she came forward with short, elegant strides.

Through his mind one pathetically desperate thought resounded like thunder.

 

 _Valeria Terpsichore Winters, I’m sorry_.

 

 

 


	3. To Sign Away

_“Remember when we hated each other?”_

_He raised an eyebrow at her. “I never hated you.”_

_*****_

“I don’t know about this, Terry,” Valeria said, pulling her hood up higher and stopping as they approached the Hogs Head Inn.

“It’s just a meeting. If you don’t want any part of it, you don’t have to commit to anything,”

“Umbridge is a family acquaintance. My parents adore her. If they find out I’m a part of something-“

“Oh, come on. I’m sure they broke a school rule or two when they were our age,” Terry said. Valeria didn’t know if that was true and, truth be told, she didn’t know how her family would react if they found out she was breaking rules like this, but she was fearful regardless. It was strange how little she seemed to know about her own family as she grew older. Her parents had been inexplicably tense all summer and were relieved by Umbridge’s appointment at Hogwarts.

 _“Potter is a lunatic,”_ Odessa said once over dinner in the summer. _“I had a bad feeling about him when I met him at the World Cup.”_

Odessa Winters always prided herself on her intuition. The ability to read a person or a room and act accordingly was a skill she had been instilling in her children for as long as Valeria could remember. She was so convincing that Valeria was unsure of what she believed, and therefore unsure of what she was even doing being so brazen in attending this meeting.

“I just have a bad feeling about all this,” Valeria said.

“Hermione came to you specifically, at least hear them out,” Terry said. Hermione did do that, in the library a few days ago. She was acting strange. The girls didn’t speak too much, but were on friendly terms. She had whispered on the other side of a bookshelf about this meeting, explaining that she had heard Valeria complain to Terry about one of Umbridge’s classes, and invited her.

“Alright,” Valeria resigned. Terry took her gently by the hand and led her inside. She took a place near the back while Terry went to sit with Goldstein and Corner. Looking around the room, she noticed that she was the only Slytherin present at the meeting, not exactly surprising but still curious. The others didn’t pay her much mind. Hermione gave a smile and a small nod of acknowledgement and Lovegood cocked her head, grinning at Valeria. She couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort she had by just being there, whether it was cowardice or intuition, and kept her hood up and her head down. Her father had warned her against places of ill repute and she could only imagine the scolding she would receive if he knew she was here.

Harry refused to discuss Cedric’s death, for which she was grateful as she wanted this meeting to end quickly. Hermione wisely did the initial talking. They were there to learn magic, real magic, interesting magic. The magic that would actually advance their skills as witches and wizards. Valeria _was_ interested, the only thing keeping her in her chair, but the conflict brewing within her only grew as she listened intently.

As the conversation carried on, Valeria felt the ache of dread in the pit of her stomach once again. Unlike her friends, namely those in Slytherin, she felt a sense of something deeply wrong. It was a feeling that was entirely unfamiliar to her, completely new, like she had been given a new set of eyes with which to see the world and those around her. And unlike the others in this room, who had a vested interest in supporting this cause whether their interests were belief, family, friendship or loyalty, she could not carry the feeling with ease. It made her want to crawl out of her skin and by the time the others in the room formed a line to sign the parchment vouching their commitment, she had already decided to make a discrete but hasty exit. She managed to make it about thirty feet from the entrance, scanning for any familiar faces passing by, before Hermione called after her.

“Valeria, wait!”

“Don’t yell!” Valeria hissed. In the library, it had been Hermione who told Valeria to keep her voice down.

“We really want you to join,” Hermione said as she caught up to Valeria.

“And I can’t.” Valeria said, not asking who _“we”_ consisted of.

“Just listen-”

“I heard enough. Hermione, I can’t be a part of this. It’s too risky for all of us. Why did you even ask me to be a part of this?”

“Because you’re tired of this too. You’re good with defensive magic and you’re the best with potions in our year, better than Terry and me.”

“That’s not defensive magic.”

“It can be. Knowing what to have on hand in case, and how to make them, could be useful,” Hermione argued and Valeria considered. She was never the type to pass up an opportunity to learn, but looking at the facts, at who she was, who her family and friends were, it was a risk she was just too hesitant to take.

“I was the only Slytherin in that room,” Valeria said.

“You’re the only one we can trust.”

Valeria laughed. “They aren’t all like that.”

“To you maybe, but you at least make something of an effort,” Hermione shrugged. Valeria laughed a little. She had a reputation, one that she worked hard on, for being at least friendly with most everyone.

 _“The Winters have a reputation to maintain. Make sure you do your part, darling. I’m sure you’ll make us proud,”_ her father had told her as parting advice when she was eleven years old.

“Don’t you see that’s an asset?” Hermione asked.

“An asset to you,” Valeria said. Hermione shifted her weight and crossed her arms.

“We could use you. You can learn from Harry, and you hate Umbridge as much as we do. We all benefit,”

“I’m not signing anything,” Valeria said after considering.

Hermione shook her head. “No signature, no joining.”

“Then I’ll be on my way,” she turned to go, but Hermione stopped her.

“Vale-“

“I can’t be caught, Hermione,” Valeria said sternly. “I don’t expect you to understand, but no one I know, no one I’m close to is on your side here. It's different for me. If I’m caught in all this, ruin my good standing, I don’t know what will happen but nothing good can come of it.”

“Fine, fine,” Hermione thought for a moment. “Look, I can make another parchment. One with only your name on it that I’ll keep hidden. You will have to sign, but at least your risk is lower than ours.”

Valeria breathed deep. “Alright. Just tell me when and where. I’ll be there.”

“Library, tomorrow at the start of lunch,” Hermione said. With a nod of acknowledgment from Valeria, they parted ways. Valeria did not rest as well as she would have liked that night and was abruptly shaken from her early morning exhaustion at breakfast.

“Terry Boot? Terry bloody Boot?” Draco scoffed, sitting across from Valeria. She rolled her eyes, minding her food.

“Good morning, Draco,” she said lazily.

“You went on a date to Hogsmeade with _Terry Boot_?!”

“Heard about that, did you?” She said. She could practically hear Daphne thinking _“I told you so”_ sitting beside her.

“Why him?” he asked.

"Jealous, Draco?” Daphne smirked. Draco blushed a little.

“Mind your business, Greengrass,” Draco threatened. Valeria was annoyed when she should have felt relieved. She had pulled Terry aside a couple days before the Hogsmeade visit, asking him to be her cover, to go on a not-date with her to the meeting. She needed a good excuse to get away from Daphne and her other friends and additionally needed a reason to be there if any others in her Slytherin cohort had seen her lurking about. She most certainly couldn’t give up the ruse now that Draco was insistent upon making a show of it.

“I just don’t get it. He’s so _dull_ ,” Draco said.

“He’s not dull,” Valeria defended. “He’s smart and funny-

“You’ve lost your bloody mind. Funny? His jokes are awful and-“

“ _I_ think he’s funny. That’s all that matters,” she replied. “And above all Draco, he’s nice. I don’t have to scold him constantly and he’s not tedious to be around.”

“Is that supposed to be a dig at me?”

“You asked and I gave you my reasons. What more do you want?”

“Valeria Boot doesn’t have a nice ring to it,” he joked.

She rolled her eyes again. “We’re not getting married, Draco.”

“I give it a month,” Draco said with an unbecoming scoff. She dropped her fork onto her empty plate and grabbed her bag.

“I  _like_ Terry. He’s easy to be around and I don’t have to worry about him making a complete ass of himself at memorials,” she stood up and stormed off, leaving Draco there to simmer in her words. They were a blow to his pride as they were during the incident at the end of last year that had put the two in opposition in the first place.

 

_“That was dull,” Draco said as the Slytherins split away from the crowd. He reached for her hand, but she yanked it away, picking up her pace in a fuming rage to get away from him. “What’s the matter with you?”_

_"You behaved abominably,” she said, turning on her heels to face him, unable to hold it in any longer._

_He laughed it off. “Calm down, Val, no one cared.”_

_“Yes, they did. He died, Draco!” Her voice gained volume, to her shame._

_“It’s not like you knew him.”_

_“No, but others did. And you couldn’t keep it together. You couldn’t put on a serious face when a student died!”_

_“He knew what he was getting into when he put his name in that cup. Besides, I can’t take Dumbledore’s nonsense seriously,” he paused. “You don’t actually buy that do you?” He said. She didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know Potter well, but he had never struck her as one to lie about something like this, neither did Dumbledore. What they alleged happened sounded impossible, completely insane to her, but she couldn’t shake it. Something was wrong._

_“It doesn’t matter what I believe happened, this is about you! I have defended you for years, told everyone you were ultimately harmless, despite how you acted. Looks like I was wrong. You’re a git who actually enjoys making a total fool of himself!”_

_“I am not!”_

_“I’m done! Just leave me alone,” she called before storming away, ignoring the others’ stares and Draco’s red-faced stammering._

“Your day is starting out well,” Daphne said under her breath, smirking. Draco snapped from his thoughts to give her a glare accompanied by a sneer.

“I said keep your nose out of it,” he said embarrassed, his initial surge of confidence having quickly dissipated. “What’s gotten into her?”

Daphne shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I agree with you. Just a few months ago I don’t think she even knew who Boot was. Then she’s off who knows where in Hogsmeade with him.”

“You didn’t see her there?”

“Did you? They hid themselves away pretty quickly. She says they just wanted to be somewhere private to talk, hang out. Who knows what they actually got up to,” Daphne said. Curiosity piqued, Draco raised an eyebrow and turned his focus to eating breakfast. Later that day, Valeria excused herself from her friends as their final class before lunch ended and made her way up the stairs to the library.

“Are you sure about this, Hermione?” Ron asked.

“We’ve been over this,” Hermione said.

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to let one of _them_ into our business,” Ron said.

“She’s not a Death Eater, Ronald,” Hermione said exasperated.

“Her father is.”

“But  _she’s_ not,” Hermione insisted. “I doubt she’d agree to even bother with us if she were like them.”

“Maybe that’s the point though. That whole family is scary good at lying. Even my dad liked them alright before and my mum devoured Odessa’s _Witch Weekly_ articles. Maybe she’s spying on us, reporting to Umbridge or worse!”

“Not everything is a conspiracy and Terry trusts her. If she isn’t one of them, it’s good to have her on our side. If she is, then we can keep an eye on her. We need people like her around. The more people from her world we can bring over the better. Besides, she doesn’t even seem to know fully what happened that night,” Hermione explained.

“I’ll have to tell her what I saw eventually, especially if she joins,” Harry said guiltily.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, we get her to sign,” Hermione said. Harry nodded and Ron shifted his weight, unconvinced. As if on cue, Valeria turned the corner down the aisle at the back of the library. Hermione reached into her bag, removing the parchment and a quill.

“Terms before I sign,” Valeria said.

“Terms?!” Ron exclaimed. Hermione shushed him.

“I’ll come to whatever meetings I can, no guarantees, and my name must be kept out of everyone’s mouth. It can’t go around that we’re even this well acquainted. It’s not personal,” Valeria said. Ron tried to hide his scoff and Valeria shot him a look. She knew he wouldn’t understand. His family believed Potter, she imagined, but she could not risk her family’s image in the eyes of the Ministry and most of the wizarding world.

“That seems reasonable,” Hermione said. Valeria nodded and picked up the quill, dipped it ink and scrawled her signature. She still felt the sense of foreboding dread brew again as her signature, fine but barely legible in her terrible penmanship, dried on the parchment. Hermione collected it and neatly put it in her bag. Valeria bid them farewell with hardly another word and made her way down to the Great Hall for lunch. Dinnertime came along without incident and by then she was chatting happily with Daphne and Tracey as they came down the steps, as if nothing was amiss. Terry stopped her before she entered the Great Hall and she told her friends she’d catch up. He leaned forward to whisper.

“I heard. Don’t worry, no one else has been talking. Glad to have you and if you ever need another cover, I’m happy to help,” he said. She nodded and smiled, genuinely, and he walked on ahead to join his friends. Valeria found herself blushing slightly as she took a seat beside Daphne at the Slytherin table.

“What’d he want?” Daphne asked suggestively. Valeria could feel Draco’s scornful glare, no doubt eavesdropping from a few seats away. Valeria began preparing her plate and against her better nature found Draco’s barely concealed indignation satisfying.

“He just wanted to say how much he enjoyed our date,” she said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may edit this as I reread through it as I posted rather quickly and may have missed a typo or two. This is the first chapter of the story proper and I hope to move through the fifth year quickly. Thank you for making it to the end of this.


	4. To Mask, To Lie

_"They weren't as good to you as they let on, were they?"_

_She glowered at him. "Neither were yours."_

_*****_

 

“What’s happening?” Valeria asked Pansy Parkinson as she approached the mass of murmuring students around the common room notice board that morning.

“Umbridge banned all student organizations and they have to pass re-approval before meeting again,” Pansy said. Valeria’s heart sank. Someone must have been watching their meeting. Could someone have reported? Why else would Umbridge ban everything?

“Even Quidditch?”

Pansy nodded. “The choir too.”

“Not to worry, Val. The Slytherin team will be back at practice in no time. Not sure about the choir though. Depends on how well Flitwick cooperates, I imagine,” Draco said, smirking. Valeria was too worried about her own skin, about the meeting in the Hog’s Head Inn, to come up with a witty retort on the spot. She settled for rolling her eyes and gesturing for Daphne and Tracey to follow her to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The morning mail arrived with a flurry of excitement as usual. Valeria’s owl safely landed before her, carrying a package and some papers. The first of the papers was an entire magazine; _Witch Weekly_ , which her mother had subscribed her to. She went to put it aside when she saw her mother’s smiling face gracing the cover.

 

_“How does she do it? Odessa Winters spills all on raising youngsters with an age difference while keeping an idyllic home!”_

 

Tracey looked over as Valeria read. “At least _you_ didn’t have to interview this time,” she shrugged. Tracey was right, she hated doing that mother-daughter interview last year. The stupid questions the interviewer asked: " _What’s your favorite subject? How about a boyfriend? A charming girl like you probably has to spend all term fending them off!"_ All tedious, all dreadfully boring, all conducted with a soft smile plastered onto her face and all for a magazine spread that painted Odessa as a model parent and Valeria as carefully treading the same steps. It surprised her that with the dozens of articles Odessa had written or been interviewed for over the years, the magazine thought she was still interesting enough to feature. How many decorating tips and hair care routines could her mother come up with? Against her better judgement, tempted by curiosity, Valeria flipped to her mother’s article and scanned the words.

 

 _The key is to equip them with a fine set of_ _social skills as early as possible. Our Valeria took to our instruction better than expected and has an ability to make friends with nearly everyone she meets. Of course, this can be dangerous, as we all know how vulnerable children can be to unsavory influences, so it’s equally important to make sure they’re not being too friendly with those sorts of peers. Our son Konstantin has been a fine role model to his little sister in this regard and I can speak for my husband and myself when I say we are beaming with pride!_

 

Valeria quickly shut the magazine and set it aside. It may have paranoia, but her mother’s words felt like a warning, like they were addressed specifically to her out of hundreds of readers. She went for the second paper, a letter with her name scribed in her brother’s elegant hand. He hadn’t sent her many letters in her previous years at Hogwarts. He was always so busy with the family business and rising up in important ministry dealings, so she had been told. But this year he had been writing nearly weekly since the term began.

 

_Dear Valeria,_

_As always, I hope this letter finds you well. How are your studies progressing? Keep in mind that the fifth year is vital to your post-Hogwarts career. I’ve been feeling nostalgic for my own school years as of late, what is happening outside of class? What is the gossip? I can only imagine, what with Potter being there, and I admit I’m curious. Do keep my updated on Slytherin’s Quidditch prospects, I’m assuming some of your friends are on the team. I hope to hear from you soon. Let me know if you need anything from me, as always._

_All my best,_

_Konstantin S. Winters._

 

She laughed. Even in a letter to his own sister he went and signed his full name like it was a legal document. She was already forming a reply in her head about what to tell him. She had to come up with something, as he wouldn’t buy  _“nothing out of the ordinary”_ for much longer. Things were very much out of the ordinary and they both knew it. He had been asking after rumors and other such happenings since term started, never specifying what exactly he meant or wanted to know. Coupled with her mother’s interview, the uneasy feeling in her gut took root again. She set the letter aside for later and reached for the package, saving the most exciting delivery for last. Draco had already opened his gift, a letter from mother and his favorite treats, as usual, which he was happily supplementing his breakfast with. Valeria opened her package to be met with disappointment. Creams, salves, and concoctions for her face, hair, and skin. The note read, _“Winter is on the way. These will keep your skin from drying in the cold. Love, Mother.”_

“ _More_ glamors?” Daphne asked, as they informally called them.

“I wanted new potion vials. They have enchanted ones that are much safer to work with,” Valeria said, looking down at the box. She had politely asked last week, and her parents hadn’t even acknowledged it. She should have been used to this by now, this sort of thing had been happening since she could remember, but it still made her heart sink a little more each time.

“Maybe next time,” Tracey reassured. Valeria removed the note and crumpled it.

“Pansy!” She called. “Want some beauty stuff?” Pansy gratefully accepted and Valeria passed the box down to her. Her friends didn’t bat an eye as Valeria had been giving away gifts since they started Hogwarts.

 

_“What are you three up to?” Valeria asked as she entered the common room from the girl’s dorm with a box of Christmas presents from her family._

_“We were just discussing who the Heir of Slytherin might be and how ridiculous it is that people think it’s Potter,” Draco said lazily. Valeria laughed, going to a table and placing her box upon it._

_“Your father tell you anything more?” she asked. Draco let out an exacerbated sigh._

_“Just like I told_ them, _he won’t tell me anything else. Has yours?”_

_“No,” she shook her head. “Told me to stop asking questions. I’ve heard rumors though. Some people are saying it’s you.” Draco sat upright from his lounged position and she noticed Crabbe and Goyle tensed up too._

_“Who? Who’s saying that?”_

_“Who do you think?” she asked sorting through the items in her box. Draco scoffed again. “Maybe going on about how much you hate mudbloods isn’t the best idea then. You have to admit it’s funny though. The Malfoy line can be traced back hundreds of years and if you_ were _the Heir of Slytherin, you’d never shut up about it,” she said. He made a rude face at her and carried on blabbing. She noticed Crabbe and Goyle had been listening to them intently, which was out of character for them. They usually stared off at nothing unless Draco barked orders at them. He continued his conversation with the dunces, which abruptly ended when the two ran out of the common room._

_“They’ve been odd all night!” Draco said. Valeria shrugged._

_“Maybe they’re finally losing the last of the wits they had left. I can’t see how you can stand to be around them,”_

_“They’re useful,” he shrugged. He came over to her and looked at the box, noticing the ample number of expensive jars and books about hair and beauty. He picked up one entitled_ Simple Beauty Spells for Blossoming Young Witches _and shook his head._

_“More of this stuff? Are you ugly under all that or something?” he asked. She gave him a look and continued her sorting._

_“All I asked for this year was a copy of_ Introduction to Higher Mysteries. _Maybe my birthday.”_

_“Wouldn’t count on it. Giving all this away?”_

_“Just like last year. Didn’t even get any of the girls presents this Christmas, just waited for this.”_

_“Any sweets you’d like to part with?” he asked expectantly. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s our tradition!”_

_“I’ll give you some in the morning,” she said, to Draco’s pleasure._

_“You know, they should listen to you more,” he said, sounding dangerously close to genuine._

_“Yes, well, good luck trying to convince them.”_

 

It was a happy memory, in an unhappy sort of way. They were nicer to each other back then and it made her nostalgic for that time, when it was simple and she knew where she stood, back when she knew her place and everyone else’s. The fondness of remembrance quickly dissipated when Draco opened his mouth just before potions class, nearly getting into throws with Longbottom. She shoved by him on her way to sit with her friends and he shot a sneer in retaliation, filling her rage. He was so far gone from the boy she knew well before Hogwarts and she felt like a fool for thinking he was anything other than the person he proved to be now. The next day Terry gently pulled her aside before after lunch.

“They found a place, seventh floor corridor, tonight. I’ll meet you up there,” he whispered. “You look nice.”

She laughed a little. “I look the same every day.”

“Still nice,” he said with a smile before giving her arm a squeeze and heading off to class. She almost couldn’t believe the group managed to find a space and reform with Umbridge’s decree in place. But she hadn’t expected to be informed of a meeting on such short notice, and now needed to find an excuse to sneak off that night. She spent the rest of class formulating something in her head. It had to be believable, of course, but it also needed to be a reason to disappear, one which no one would consider bothering her about. Before the appointed time, she penned a quick letter to her brother.

  _Dear Konstantin,_

_I am well. Yourself? The curriculum is growing more intense, heavy workload and all, but the material is definitely more interesting than it has been. Outside of class, things are not terribly exciting, I’m afraid. Potter seems to be trying to keep his head down a bit more, to his credit. I went on a date to Hogsmeade with a boy called Terry, he’s in Ravenclaw. He’s nice, I like him. I’m afraid I don’t know enough about Quidditch to make a fair judgement, but Draco and the others seem anxious to get going._

_Since you offered, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor. There’s these potions vials I’ve had my eye on. They’re the new shatterproof ones that stay cool to the touch. I believe they would help me with my studies. I can get you the funds from my account if you need._

_All my love,_

_Valeria T. Winters_

 

She put the letter in an envelope once the ink had dried to send out in the morning. The time was fast approaching to depart and so she put on her most relaxed face and kept her lie at the ready as she made her way towards the common room’s exit.

“And where are you off to?” Draco asked from his place lounging on a sofa.

“Choir practice,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. He raised a blond eyebrow.

“Flitwick get permission to reform already?”

“No, but I asked for a private lesson. I don’t want to fall out of practice while we wait on Umbridge,” she said. He had a suspicious look on his face but was quickly distracted by Goyle asking about Quidditch, providing her the opportunity to make her escape largely unnoticed.

“There you are,” Terry said cheerfully when she found him on the seventh floor. “Ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a choir in this story that doesn't exist in the books. Also, I swear I will get this plot moving along quicker in coming chapters if my outlines are anything to go by. Thanks for making it to the end of this chapter.


	5. To Deny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is very long, but I wanted to cover more time. Thanks for clicking on this story.

_ “We were so stupid,” she said softly, ashamed and defeated. _

_ We were happy, worse off, but happy.”  _

_ ***** _

“Neville,” Valeria called, catching up to him as the DA members were filing out of the Room of Requirement, which had instantly become the most fascinating place at Hogwarts, to Valeria’s mind. “I’m sorry about what Draco said before Potions. He’s been fouler than usual lately.”

Neville smiled uncomfortably. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but I wanted to say it, even if it doesn’t mean much coming from me,” she said. He smiled and looked down.

“Thanks,” he said. 

“Just pretend you’re going hit him if he tries it again. That usually gets him to back down,” she smiled as Terry approached.

“Can I walk you back?” Terry asked.

“We’re going opposite directions and there is a curfew,” she said. He shrugged.

“Could use the exercise and I’ll think of something if I’m caught. Come on,” he said. She nodded and followed him down the corridor. 

“You were good back there,” he said. They paired up for practicing the disarming charm, and although it was an easy spell to drill, it was empowering. It felt good to be practicing real defensive magic again and Terry had made it fun, telling jokes and laughing along with her. 

“You too, it is a pretty simple spell though,” she said. 

“For someone with good social skills, you’re not very good at taking a compliment,” he said. She laughed. “I’m sure we’ll get to more interesting stuff in no time. So, you’ve had a taste of it, what do you think about all this?”

“The name’s a bit silly ‘Dumbledore’s Army,’ but it’s clever enough, I suppose. Otherwise, I feel a bit better about it. Potter is a surprisingly good teacher. Being the only Slytherin there though is a bit odd,” she said. 

“Don’t mind that. I don’t think anyone’s bothered by it and if they are they’ll soon see that you’ve just a right to be there as anyone. One small step towards uniting the houses,” Terry said. She was grateful for his words, although it was simple encouragement. He knew what to say, how to be reassuring and when to push. “Still anxious about your parents?”

“A little, but as long as it’s kept from Umbridge and some of the other Slytherins, they don’t really have a means of finding out,” she said.

“It’s strange. We bonded over Potions, dislike of Umbridge, and now this, but I don’t know much about you, not as much as I’d like anyway,” he said. She blushed. 

“What would you like to know?”

“Are your parents really as strict as you say?” he asked.

“They just have high standards. Yours?” 

He shrugged. “As long as I mind my grades and stay out of trouble, they don’t pry too much.” 

She laughed. “Lucky.”

“I mean, the reason I said that, about not knowing you that well, I mean, is that I’d like to get to know you better if you-”

“And what do we have here?” Valeria would know that voice even if she had not heard it for a hundred years. The two turned their attention to Draco Malfoy strutting towards them. 

“Damn, I forgot he was patrolling tonight. If he asks, you ran into me as I was leaving Flitwick’s office,” she whispered before Draco got too close. 

“Ravenclaw tower is the other direction, Boot,” Draco said.

“I was just walking Winters back to her common room,” Terry said with casual confidence.

“Why’s that? Has Winters forgotten which house she’s in?” Draco said, talking to Terry but looking at her. She reciprocated his glare. 

“A courtesy, Malfoy. I’m not surprised you don’t recognize it when you see it,” Terry said, his calm demeanor quickly giving way to annoyance.

“Are you _trying_  to  lose house points, Boot?”

“I’m _trying_ to  walk my friend back to her common room,” 

“It’s too close to curfew. I’ll take it from here,” Draco said.

“I think she can decide that for herself,” Terry replied.

“As a Prefect, I outrank you both and I say-”

“Oh, shut up. Will both of you stop talking as if I’m not here?” she said. “I’ll talk to you later, Terry. Goodnight.” Terry looked a bit disappointed, but wished her goodnight before giving Draco one last threatening glare and walking away. Valeria didn’t acknowledge Draco as she walked by him and down towards the dungeons. 

“He just happened to find you wandering around after your private lesson, did he?” he mocked, catching up to her.

“It’s none of your business,”

“As a Prefect, it actually  is  my-”

“Oh, stop. That may work on first years, but you’re a damned idiot if you think it will work on me. Why are you always trying to ruin things?” 

He paused. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” 

“And how does he look at me?”

He paused again, catching himself. “I just don’t think you should be hanging around him. You’ve seen who he’s friends with,”

“What’s wrong with Goldstein?”

“You know who I mean,” he said. 

“Potter and his friends have nothing to do with anything,” she said. 

“I’m just telling you that you need to be more careful about the company you keep.”

“You are not my keeper!”

“You’re not like them, Val. You don’t belong with them,” he said, his tone more serious.

“What does that mean?” 

“Don’t play stupid. You’re from one of the most famous pureblood families. You’re from a completely different world. Don’t pretend you can’t tell,” he said. She could tell, in that he was not wrong, but it could not have been nearly as dire as he was making it out to be.

“It’s the same world, Draco. And you know what? Terry’s been nice to me, Hermione’s nice to me, and so are others. Maybe I’m more like them than you think,” she said.

“Of course, they’re nice to you. They’ll be nice to you until it’s not good for them anymore. They pretend who you are doesn’t matter to them, but it does.” 

“Last I recall, you’re the one who’s only nice to people who are useful to you and you’re bloody awful at it,” she snapped.

“Sorry that I’m not as good at it as you,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Come off it. You’re all smiles in class, then turn around and complain about people once they can’t hear you. Your parents do it and I’d even wager that even your perfect brother isn’t as fond of everyone as he lets on.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. He struck a nerve and he knew it. The truth of it, the truth that enraged her, was that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Reputation was everything, and though she often pretended not to care, it was far too engrained in her to eschew that value completely.

“I’ve known you and your family since I was born, Val. You’re more like us than  you’re pretending to be and those people, people like Boot, will ditch you the second you threaten their squeaky-clean image,” he said 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said as they approached the common room entrance. Draco spoke the password and stepped aside to let her through first, a polite habit born out of tradition.

“I’m just saying that you need to be careful, especially with Potter raving about Death Eaters and You-Know-Who every other day,” he said, leaning close.

“Is that a threat?” she asked, glaring up at him, the look in his eyes far less menacing than she had expected.

“It’s advice,” he said. She had a bit of a knack for knowing what to say when, but he disarmed her completely more often than usual and admitting that defeat to herself made her angrier. Perhaps it was nerves about the DA, perhaps it was teenage rage, but all she could manage was a quick turn away from him and marching off to her dorm.

 

“He just won’t grow up and I’m tired of it,” Valeria, said to her friends as they did homework together one evening, though gossiping was certainly slowling down their progress.

“I think he’s jealous,” Tracey said.

“Of what?”

“Boot, of course! What else? Blaise told Pansy, who told Daphne, who told me that he asked Draco if he was jealous, since you dropped him last term, and he denied it with such a passion that I don’t think it could possibly be anything else,” Tracey explained. Valeria laughed. 

“I think you’re all mad,” she said. 

“But what exactly did he do?” Daphne asked.

“The short version? Basically, he went on about how Terry and I are ‘too different’ or something. You know how he is. It was all nonsense,” 

“I mean, is he wrong?” Daphne asked.

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m just saying, considering who your family is, how they are, you are pretty different. I mean that in the nicest way possible,” Daphne said. Valeria sighed.

“We’ve only gone on one date. Bit early to say,” 

“I’m not saying anything against it. Just saying it’s surprising is all. But who knows, Draco’s probably up his own ass anyway,” Daphne said. Valeria accepted what they said, keeping it in mind, but the comments were not exactly welcome. 

There had been things that cheered her up, that soothed the cut of Draco’s words that night. The choir was permitted to reform so that got her out of the common room, though she kept up her lie of private lessons for the sake of the DA. Thankfully, Hermione’s bewitched galleons were a godsend and she was diligent in regularly making sure hers remained close but out of sight. Her excuse for private lessons was that she wasn’t as good as she wanted to be vocally, which wasn’t entirely untrue as Priscilla Marks had been the darling of the choir for years and Valeria wanted to at least come close to her skill. Konstantin had also promptly sent her the vials she asked for, which excited her more than anything had in weeks, along with a note hoping that they were the right ones. 

The day of the Slytherin Quidditch match against Gryffindor approached and she met up with Terry well before the game, sporting her Slytherin colors. 

“No doubt who you’re rooting for,” he said upon seeing her.

“I’ll never betray my house,” she joked. 

“I thought you didn’t really like Quidditch,” 

“I find it rather dull for the most part, can’t keep track of all the fouls either, but I’ve got friends on the team, so I’m obligated to support them,” she said. 

“Even, so I can’t say I appreciate some of your team’s methods,” he said with a smirk.

“Do you come to play or do you come to win?” 

“Hope you warmed up your voice, Val. I expect to hear you loud and clear!” Draco said with delight as he passed them on his way to prepare for the game. Terry’s demeanor soured suddenly.

“What’s he on about?” he asked. Valeria couldn’t believe how she could have forgotten about the damn song that had filled the common room for the past few days as nearly the entire house practiced the tune and lyrics. She hadn’t written a single word, but she knew each one and even took part in some of the rehearsals. Parts of the song were humorous to her mind, sung in the privacy of the common room, but she had long decided to refrain from partaking at the match itself.But she couldn’t tell Terry that, she liked him too much and no doubt he would disapprove. 

“A song has been written mocking Weasley’s skills on the pitch. They’d like us all to sing it today,” she explained carefully. Terry rolled his eyes. 

“Of course. You know I can’t understand what you ever saw in Malfoy,” he said. The comment cut deeper than Terry had intended. She thought back to the Yule Ball, which felt years away from where she was now. The thing was, Draco could be charming, even nice, when he wanted to be. It was in him, somewhere at the core. She knew it when he first brought her their favorite spot on the grounds of Malfoy Manor in the shade of an immeasurably old oak tree. She saw it when he helped her with Charms, which he had always been better in. She felt it when he encouraged her to pursue her dream of working in the Department of Mysteries. And she loved it, briefly, when they laughed over sips of stolen mead in a dark alcove of the castle the night of the Yule Ball. She had held on to that part of him for so long, knowing that it was there, that even when they were barely speaking, a part of her stubborn self refused to give up on the faintest of hopes.

“I’ve known him for so long, guess it was just comfortable,” she said as casually as she could so that Terry would not put too much stock in her words. “I should have known better when he told me his mum insisted he ask me to the Yule Ball.” Terry burst out laughing.

“His mum? Pathetic,” he said. 

The match had taken an ugly turn when Slytherin lost. She could not hear the exchange, but she could only imagine what Draco was saying to Weasley as she saw the tension turn to blows. The common room was so rife with angry chatter and ranting about the match, but also pleasure from the punishments for the Gryffindors involved, that Valeria decided to retreat to her dorm to get a start on some homework she had been neglecting. She caught a second wind when the action had died down and went back downstairs to read for pleasure. Others were still mingling about, but she saw Draco lounging on one of the sofas, shockingly not flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and took a seat near him. 

“I’m sorry about the match,” she said. He acknowledged her. 

“At least Potter got what he deserved,” he said, the nastiness dripping like syrup from his tone. She had heard several versions of the story already and wasn’t about to ask Draco for his. “I’m surprised you were even there and not off with Boot somewhere.”

“Don’t start,” she warned.

“You’ve been disappearing all the time, don’t think I haven’t noticed,”

“Why do you care?”

“It’s not that,” he started defensively. “I just liked it better when you were around more is all,” 

“Is that a roundabout way of saying you miss me?” she said, half-joking but half-serious. He looked her in the eye and she knew him again. 

“If that’s what you want to think, sure,” he said. She laughed a little, practically inaudible. Despite his tendency to shut down at the first jab at his vulnerabilities, he could be unexpectedly open sometimes, if one knew how to listen. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction, but there was a part of her that missed him too, at least their friendship. There hadn’t been many people she could be completely at ease around and he was so familiar that it seemed to come naturally. There were appearances to keep up around anyone other than her closest friends, but not around Draco, not ever. Even with Terry she hadn’t been able to let her guard down completely yet, but she blamed that on the awkward testing of the waters of their potential as a pair. But if Draco only missed her why didn’t he come out with it and apologize? For what he did last year, for every snide comment, for their argument after the DA meeting that he was ignorant of? There had to be more to it.

“Is that all? You just want me around more or not around other things?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to get into again. You know what I think already.”

“But I don’t understand why you think it,” she said. 

“I don’t think Boot’s good for you,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Like I told you, it doesn’t matter what you think. I find him smart, nice-“

“I think you’re wrong, but that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying he doesn’t understand you and he won’t,”

“You’re full of-“

“God, Val, just hear me out for a second,” he said. He shifted to an upright position to speak more directly to her. “We, people like us, have certain…expectations placed on us, you know that. He won’t understand that. He won’t understand your family, your past, how you were brought up, or anything. He won’t get who you really are without understanding all that and that’s why I don’t think he’s good for you. Besides the fact that you can do better than Terry Boot,” he finished with a scoff. 

She hated Draco most when he had a point. The two of them had bonded on a few occasions in the past over the high bars that had been set for them. The only time Draco expressed even the slightest disloyalty to his father was when he mumbled, ashamed, to her about Lucius’s disappointment in his grades or letting Potter best him in Quidditch. She told him too of times her parents scolded her for accidentally mildly embarrassing them in front of an important person by saying something slightly controversial or associating too much with someone they believed to be lower than they were. If only she had told him about the lengthy talking-to she received when she had not been chosen for Prefect that year. All these conversations carried with them the implicit promise that they were private and an empathetic understanding made up their foundation. 

Her worst fear was that Draco was right. Based upon Terry’s commentary about her family, how she was raised, he saw her entire childhood as borderline ridiculous. Perhaps it was, but no one likes hearing that about themselves, no matter how much truth there is to it. She knew it before Draco had mentioned, but she was absolutely determined to prove him wrong.

“What do you mean by my past?” she asked.

“You know, about your parents and You-Know-Who,” he said casually.

“My father was under the Imperius Curse and my mother knew nothing about any of it,” she defended the truth she potently believed. 

“My father too. Doesn’t stop people from saying what they’re going to say. You think Boot believes your father is innocent?” Draco said. There was something in his voice, something that made her suspicious that he wasn’t telling the full truth. She knew Lucius’s dealings, but her father wasn’t a part of those, that she knew for a fact. 

“Your father is much worse at managing his reputation,” Valeria snapped. For once, Draco looked unscathed.

“At least he’s not pretending to be someone he’s not,” Draco said.

“The Ministry seems to eat right out of his hand,” 

“And they don’t out of Mr. Winters’s? Fudge is a fool anyway.”

“It’s not the same. Besides, if You-Know-Who isn’t back than why does it even matter?” she said. Draco’s mouth twisted as if there was something he wanted to say, but held it in, something he wasn’t entirely sure of.

“And what do you think?” he asked, being uncharacteristically careful with his words.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? As long as we carry on as we always have, it will all work out. I believe that,” she said.

“You’re going to have to commit to something at some point, you know,” he said. 

“All I want is to finish school, study interesting things, and work in the Department of Mysteries. Nothing else really concerns me,” she said.

“It does. Whether you like it or not,” he replied. It wasn’t the first time he sounded creepily ominous and she could hardly stand it. Despite what either Terry or even Draco thought she did firmly believe that the course she had been following was optimal. If she did well in school, remained in good graces with most people, then things would sort themselves out as they always had. Her dating Terry Boot certainly had very little to do with that.

“I suggest you change the subject if you ever want us to be on friendly terms again,” 

“Whatever you say,” he said with a snort. “Have you sent your Christmas list home yet?” She gave him a look of half-hearted chastisement. It had been their tradition to discuss Christmas lists that had started as a joke about her not getting what she asked for from her family. It was stupid, but Draco found it amusing and it helped cushion her inevitable disappointment. 

“Why would I waste perfectly good parchment?” she asked.

“Keeping it a surprise this year? Interesting,” 

“Might be fun to see what they come up with on their own,” 

“I might try that too. We can compare results.”

 

From then on Draco and Valeria were much friendlier with each other, which wasn’t saying much given their previous animosity. He would still send a sneer or angry glare her way when she was with Terry in the corridors, and to say it was like before would be giving both of them far too much credit. Draco had never actually apologized and she guarded her thoughts around him in her own stubbornness, leaving little room for the friendship to develop beyond a fickle acquaintanceship at that point. But she was happier as November gave way into December, and she was becoming far more comfortable around others in the DA. Ginny Weasley still seemed wary of her, and the Weasley twins too, which she blamed on her connection to Draco after the Quidditch incident. She was far too engrossed in mastering the spells they learned and spending time with Terry to pay it much mind. 

The Room of Requirement had been decorated to the fullest degree for Christmas as mid-December came along, the last DA meeting before the holiday hiatus. It was a thorough review of what they had learned thus far, but the holiday cheer was not completely lost. As they filed out for the last time that calendar year, Terry carefully took her hand in his and set out on their way. They had mutually agreed that he would only walk her a small distance after their run-in with Draco.

“There was mistletoe, did you see?” he asked.

“Hadn’t noticed,” she lied, too embarrassed to admit otherwise. He stopped, still holding her hand. 

“I wanted to say something before we break for the holiday,” he started, the red in his cheek visible in the dim flames that lined the castle walls. “I like you, Valeria. I really like you. You’re one of the smartest, most interesting girls I’ve met and I wanted, if you want that is, to maybe make it official.” Valeria hadn’t been expecting it then, but had secretly been hoping it would happen soon. 

“I’d like that,” she said, blushing herself. He took a step closer to her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. He bent down tentatively and kissed her carefully.

“I hope the break flies by,” he said with a goofy grin.

 

The following day, word had begun to spread rather quickly of Terry and Valeria’s status as a couple. By Hogwarts standards, they were an official item. Her friends had let her regale them with the story, parts of which she had made up in order to cover up their involvement in the DA. Draco had yet to say anything directly about the news. Valeria’s owl swooped overhead and a letter landed on the table before her.

 

_ Dear Valeria, _

 

 

> _ We are excited to see you over Christmas and hope you are looking forward to a break in your studies. Please note that the Malfoys will be joining us on the 27 th  for a few days. _

 

_ Your mother, _

_ Odessa A. Winters _


	6. To Hear

_ “You always knew who I was. You didn’t understand who you were,” he said spitefully.  _

*****

The Winters’ estate was peculiar, but it was home. 

Like, Hogwarts, it was a castle but that was where the similarities ended. It was more of a fortress than a grand, sprawling castle, with four towers and four great walls surrounding a courtyard open to the crisp air. Unlike Hogwarts’s massive windows and high ceilinged corridors, the Winters’ castle was built in the style of the small medieval castles with narrow halls and most of the windows were simply small slits cut into the stone. 

The oddest thing, what it was known most for, was the fact that the keep appeared to rise out of the middle of a lake, no island beneath it. It looked as if it grew out of the water, settled deep in a low valley surrounded on all sides by Welsh mountains. 

Even stranger was the conundrum of accessing the castle. No one outside of the Winters family could enter without an invitation, as an old bewitchment mandated. There was a web of complex enchantments surrounding the fortress created by a paranoid ancestor long ago, back when the Winters family chose to shut themselves away from the Muggle world forever. It was next to impsosible for even wizards to find, unless they were invited, which gave the Ministry a good deal of grief during and shortly after the Wizarding War. 

These difficulties forced the Malfoys to apparate to the lake shore and Valeria’s father had to cast a spell that raised an invisible bridge from the water leading to the front gate. The sound of a bell rung out when they arrived, though Valeria had never once found a bell anywhere in the small castle, and Odessa fussed over her children one final time as the Malfoys made their approach. 

“Fix your collar, Konstantin. Valeria, stand straight and tall,” Odessa said and the two children complied in silence. Within seconds, the great wooden doors swung open, inviting in the frigid winter air and in the distance Valeria could see the Malfoys walking towards them on the stone bridge that had broken the thin ice sitting atop the surface of the still lake. 

“Lucius,” Hieronymus greeted his old friend with a smile and a gentlemanly embrace. “And Narcissa as lovely as ever. My, Draco, how you’ve grown.”

“Yes, Lucius, he may overtake you yet,” Odessa agreed. Draco beamed as the greetings continued. Konstantin graciously received compliments on what a dashing young man he had become and both elder Malfoys agreed that Valeria was _“as charming as ever.”_

Draco and Valeria exchanged quick words and nods of acknowledgement, not having much to say as it hadn’t been that long since they’d seen each other at school. After the formality of the greetings, Odessa led them to the dining hall, after the house elf, called Tilly, had taken the guests’ coats and luggage. Valeria instinctively took her place at the table,sandwiched between Draco and her brother to left of her father, who sat proudly at the head of the table while the fire place crackled. A fine dinner shortly appeared before them and the mead, Hieronymus’s prized possession, was set onto the table. 

“Konstantin, Fudge tells me that he’s quite impressed with your ambassadorial efforts. How was your trip to the Americas?”

“Lovely country and lovely people, but the situation there is incredibly complex. Their magical cultures are much more diverse than ours and rife with their own internal conflicts, they hardly had time to listen to my concerns,” Konstantin said.

Lucius smiled in a way that made Valeria uneasy, as if something unspoken went between them. “As smart as you are, I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he said with a familiar lazy drawl. 

“As our motto says, by any means necessary,” Konstantin said with a quiet confidence.

“And Valeria, how is your experience of Hogwarts? Draco tells us the situation is improving and that you have made yourself quite busy,” Narcissa said. Valeria was good, she knew not to show tension despite the brief moment of panic wondering what Draco might have said to his parents. 

“The workload has grown rigorous, but I do enjoy it. The changes are welcome, but not everyone is adjusting easily,” she answered. Narcissa nodded in understanding.

“I can only imagine. Some people just need a bit more convincing. It’s a relief that Slytherin House has an opportunity to set a good example for the rest of the student body.”

“Yes, Umbridge has spoken highly of Valeria. Thank goodness there are still some students who are well raised.” Hieronymus said with pride, swirling his mead in his goblet. Valeria looked up at her father, previously unaware that her family had such recent correspondence with Umbridge, but she could not say she was surprised. Her attention was turned to her father’s words, she wanted details as she had hardly interacted with Umbridge and was abundantly curious. But it would have to wait as the subject was changed and the meal went on how functions of this sort usually went. 

After dessert was finished and more mead had been consumed Hieronymus stood. “Konstantin and Lucius, if you care to join me in the study we can continue our previous discssion there,” He said. Lucius stood and Konstantin dutifully rose at his father’s command. “Odessa, if you wouldn’t mind entertaining Narcissa for a spell,”

“Happy to. There are some things I’d like your opinion on,” she said to Narcissa. “Valeria, why don’t you show Draco how you’ve finished your old playroom. I don’t think he’s seen it since it’s been redone.”

Valeria knew better at her age than to rebel even though the last thing she wanted was to spend one of her few evenings out of school trying to entertain Draco.

“Of course,” she said, rising from her chair and Draco following her lead. She walked ahead from the dining room down the narrow halls and up the spiral staircase that led to the tower that held her room. A level before her bedroom was an old room that had one point been a playroom for her, but now was remade into a sort of personal study and place to entertain friends. She loved that room, having a sanctuary to retreat to when she needed had been a godsend. Draco of course was completely uninterested in how the room was remodeled and unbecomingly plopped down on a sofa and stretched himself out to relax. 

“That was boring. Food was good though,” he said. 

“Do you need anything? Tea, water?” She asked  

“Anymore of that mead?” he asked. They had only been allowed one cup each at dinner.

“I’ve a small private stash. Not the good stuff though and not cold. Just a couple bottles father won’t notice are missing. I save it for when friends come over,” Valeria said.

“Do I not qualify as a friend?”

“If it’ll shut you up, I suppose,” she said. 

As she gave him an only partially filled glass and took hers to the sofa across from him she noticed, all at once, how they were starting to resemble their parents. Sitting across from each other, dressed nicely, quietly sipping from a glass, alone in a room secluded from the rest of the world. Draco seemed oblivious to any such observation as he held his glass up to the firelight and looked through it. 

“What’d you get for Christmas?” He asked. 

“A new mirror, an etiquette guide, wizarding fashion through the ages, and some new robes. My little experiment has revealed no different results than every other year. Yourself?”

He sighed. “New robes, of course. Some Quidditch stuff, tickets to a match this summer, the _best_ seats. Some other stuff, I don’t remember.”

“Sounds about right. Speaking of which, I have something for you,” she said. He looked intrigued but not shocked as she collected the meticulously wrapped gift from a desk drawer.

“Surprised you bothered,” he said receiving it.

She shrugged. “When my mother told me you were visiting I figured it was polite.” He peeled away the pristinely wrapped paper and the box within to find a set of leather broomsman’s gloves. “I noticed yours were getting worn. Those are the latest design. Should be better in foul weather,” she said. He looked at her, pleasantly surprised and carefully set them in the box.

“These are great. Thanks,” he said. She nodded in acknowledgement.

“Did Boot get you anything?”

“Don’t,” she warned. She should have figured this line of questioning would come. 

“I’m just curious.”

She sighed. “ _A Spectators Guide to Understanding Quidditch_ ,” she said. Draco burst into such a laughing fit that he nearly cried. “He doesn’t know you at all, poor man.”

“We haven’t been seeing each other that long.”

“It doesn’t take that long to know you have no interest in Quidditch. If neither your brother or I could get you into it after all these years, no one can. Perhaps the gift I got you is more your taste,” he said with a borderline smarmy smile. 

“You got me something?”

“Mother says it’s polite to bring your host a gift.”

“I’m sure she does,” she said.He left to get it and handed it to her when she returned. It was a much larger box, heavier too by the way he carried it, than her gift. She carefully undid the shining wrapping, rather than tear it up like Draco has. 

“It doesn’t bite. Come on, we don’t have all night,” he said. Faster she went and when she opened a box, a jump of excitement went through her like she was a child again.

“Is this-?”

“A collapsible cauldron,” he confirmed, a smug little smirk on his face. “Just tap it with your wand and it folds back down. Seemed like something you’d like.”

She loved it, ideas already stirring in her head of how and where to use it. “Thank you. This is fantastic.”

His smirk grew into s a fleeting genuine smile, “you’re welcome.”

She was genuinely touched by the gift’s thoughtfulness, but she awaited the inevitable snide comment he was sure to make; about how he had waited til the last minute, his parents told picked it out, or some other downplaying phrase that may or may not have been true. A remark never came, and he sat on quietly, rather uncharacteristically. He had an uncanny ability to make himself comfortable wherever he went. He hardly ever presented himself as remotely phased by any environment, as if the world was his kingdom and whatever room he entered was his. Even now, he lunged with his head back contentedly whereas Valeria, even in her own home sat upright and properly. She envied that about him, how easily he could move through the word, with no thought of his posture or his manners.

It wasn’t like this as children. She carried herself with decorum more than he did, but even then they were active. Chatting, playing, exploring or making themselves busy somehow. There was a heavy air hanging over her, she didn’t know if Draco felt it too, and she could not place it. The animosity that lingered just under the polite surface of their interactions, or the fact that she was alone in a secluded room with a boy who she noticed had been getting taller and how her eyes would linger just a little longer on his white blond hair. 

He wasn’t the most handsome boy at Hogwarts, at least by conventional standards. His pointed face and perpetually pale skin was a far cry from some of the chiseled and muscular older boys at school. But to Valeria’s surprise, she couldn’t help but find him handsome as his looks matured, at least until he opened his mouth. 

“So how are things with Boot?” He asked, clearly fishing for gossip or ammunition. She was too disarmed by the question to notice that he had caught her staring.

“Going well. We’re getting to know each other better,” she replied. 

He mused for a moment. “I should find a girlfriend,” he said. 

“I’m sure Pansy would be delighted to hear that,” she said. Pansy had not made her crush on Draco a secret, whether or not she was trying to be subtle was up for debate. Pansy’s and Valeria’s families had run in the same circles for a long time, so Valeria knew her albeit not well. She never took to the meaner parts of Pansy, the side of her that was so hostile to most people she deemed beneath her. But Pansy knew how to flatter, and she had tried many times to get on good terms with Valeria in their earlier years, which Valeria never fully reciprocated. She saw part of herself in Pansy, the way she disliked some people but would respect others for mostly superficial reasons, Valeria was just better at it. When Draco and Valeria were seeing each other last year, Pansy had the sense to keep her mouth shut, but Valeria had caught a jealous glare or two directed her way. Pansy never said anything, even now, benefiting from Valeria’s friendship. But Pansy’s methods and immaturity solidified Valeria’s decision to keep her at a friendly distance.

Draco pondered, “Yeah, maybe,” he said as noncommittal as ever.

“And how is home?” She asked.

He sighed. “Father’s been more stressed than usual, won’t tell me why. Mother says not to worry or anything and just let it be, but I want to know. I’m old enough to know aren’t I? If he wants me to be who he wants he’s going to have to start telling me something, for God’s sake,” he said bitterly.

“My father’s been tense too,” she said. It was highly unusual for Hieronymus to be anything but completely at ease. 

“Yeah, there’s something going on with both of them, probably the same thing.”

“It’s probably just the political situation over at the Ministry.”

“I don’t know. Father’s been wanting to get more power in the Ministry for years, and he has more than ever. Why would that make him tense?” Draco wondered. The unsettling feeling, the one that had been stirring since September began to rumble in her gut again. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

“Who knows at this point,” he said.

“Should we try to have a listen?”

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at her. “Who are you and what have you done with, Val?”

“You were just saying how we’re old enough to understand things now. Perhaps we should try,” she argued. The more she thought on it, the more peculiar it was. Leaving two teenagers alone, who had been together previously, at night. It was unlike her parents to let her do too much without supervision. Something was amiss.

“I don’t know, Val,” he said. 

“Is Draco Malfoy scared?” She mocked.

“No! I just-it seemed pretty serious this time,”

“If they catch us, they’ll just tell us to go to bed. The curiously is killing me and I’m going with or without you,” she put her glass on a table beside the sofa and walked through the doorway to the narrow spiral staircase. She heard a defeated mumbling behind her and turned to find Draco following tentatively behind as they began to descend the many stairs back to the first floor of the castle.

“Carry your shoes,” she said softly, when they got to the main floor. 

“What?!”

“The walls are thick but the halls echo. We’ll carry our shoes so they can’t hear us coming,” she instructed. He followed her order, begrudgingly, and they continued on. She led him down an even narrower hallway, and though Draco followed without question, he had a few questions he would have liked the opportunity to ask. She stopped at a dead end.

“This leads to a back of a large painting that is hung in the study. We have to be absolutely silent from here on out. If you so much as brathe too loud-“

“Secret passage ways?”

“There’s a lot about this place that my parents don’t realize I know,” she whispered. She gently touched a brick and the stone wall before them simply disappeared, giving way to a person-sized doorway that led into darkness. She gestured him to follow and the two of them crept silently in the darkness until they met the back of a portrait.

_ “Without international support, our mission is unsustainable,” Hieronymus said, sounding far less cheerful than at dinner.  _

_ “Once we have a firm stronghold here, the international wizarding community will have to follow suit,” Lucius said.  _

_“I agree, but it will be much easier if we can gather support now. There must be another angle, Konstantin,” Hieronymus said._

_ “I’ve tried, father. There are some in the Americas that are sympathetic to the cause, but they have so much to contend with given their own disparate Muggle population. They’re just too big to unify. There is much support in Eastern Europe, though they are hesitant to come forward publicly. I can barely get anyone to hear me through in Asia. It’s all too complex. I need more help.” _

_“There aren’t enough of us,” Lucius said. “Definitely not enough to publicly recruit, not yet. Which is why we should narrow our goals for the moment at least.”_

_ “What of the next generation, then?Perhaps it is time to bring our children into the fold,” Hieronymus said.  _

_ “You have me,” Konstantin said.  _

_“You just said you needed the help. Valeria has the makings of an excellent diplomat. We’ve kept things from her too long-“_

_ “Valeria is not even sixteen! What help could she be to us?” Konstantin protested.  _

_ “She can be a beginning. She can be taught. She won’t be a child forever and once we do have enough strength here, she can be extremely useful. And what of your son, Lucius?” _

_ “Too eager. I will not put my son in harm’s way if I can help it. He is still much too young and immature,” Lucius said.  _

_ “Valeria has been kept in the dark too long. Who knows how she’ll react if she learns the truth of all this. She’s not ready,” Konstantin argued.  _

_ “Nor is Draco.” _

_ “They will be pivotal before long, there’s no other way. With or without our influence. And the plan is still going well, I have heard?” Hieronymus said.  _

_ “Yes. I will give you those details very soon, Hieronymus. Just keep at it with Fudge. He cannot turn on us a moment sooner.” _

_ “He won’t. I know you’ve been entrusted with your end, but trust I am excellent with mine,” _

_“Some would say otherwise,” Lucius said._

_ “You can’t be serious. Is it not obvious in the work I’ve done, that my wife and family have done, to maintain our position? I don’t want to hear anymore talk about disloyalty. Our standing in our world is what ensures that the plan will work. Without me, we wouldn’t have the Ministry under our thumb.” _

_“I’m well aware and I have always defended you. But, you will have to publicly declare soon, as he grows impatient. The Ministry is in our grasp, at least those who matter are. You are safer than you’ve ever been,”_

_ “Yes. And Umbridge’s appointment at Hogwarts has been especially useful. As I said, soon the next generation will be absolutely pivotal to our success and her work will be vital in that cause,” Hieronymus said.  _

 

Valeria could not take another word. She backed away from the portrait and walked out of the narrow passage, Draco chasing on her heels. She climbed the stairs and back to her study, back to her sanctuary. 

“Val-“

“What were they talking about?” She asked, holding on to a table for stability, her mind furiously and anxiously reeling. 

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Don’t lie. You have to know. What is this ‘next generation’ talk? What plan? What’s happening?”

“I said I don’t know. Father tells me almost nothing. I’m just as confused as you.”

She slid down onto a chair. She needed to know, but had no means of discovery without revealing herself too much. Her father and brother, likely her mother too, were all on the opposite side from her, the one she chose when she signed the parchment Hermione gave her. She had suspicions, ones that’s she always crushed into dust and yet now they were all but confirmed. 

“We need to find out what they’re doing,” she insisted.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not now,” he said. 

“But that’s all you’ve ever wanted. You think now is the time for caution?” 

“I think we should stay out of it until-“

“Until when? You’re talking nonsense,” she exclaimed. 

“I’m just saying that there isn’t anything we can do right now. Everything will be fine, Val. It always is. Let’s just go to bed,” he said.

For the first time in her quiet and sheltered life, she was well and truly frightened. 

The next morning, an owl cake to her window with a note. 

 

_ “Dear Valeria, _

_ The next time we study, do you think you may be able to recommend some potions you find most useful? I’d love your advice. Thanks in advance.  _

_ Best,  _

_ Hermione Granger” _

 

Valeria had practically forgotten about the DA, having been away from it and her attention turned towards other things.She decided to put off facing her family and the Malfoys at breakfast as long as possible and compiled some materials for a DA Potions lesson, which Draco’s gift would be rather useful for. She had less sure about the DA now than when she first heard Hermione’s proposition in October, but as her father always said _“You never dishonor a deal.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of filler and the fifth year should not take many more chapters. If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading.


	7. To Receive

_ "It's hard to know. We can only write each other garbage," she said regretfully. _

_ "I meant every word," he said, filled with bitterness  
_

_ ***** _

 

There was no word on the next DA meeting when she returned to Hogwarts, and although she had all the materials for her Potions demonstration prepared, she was grateful. She could not get the conversation she and Draco had overheard out of her head for the rest of the break, moving into the new year. Konstantin had left shortly after the Malfoys had, on business, and her parents had seemed too distracted by other things to pay much mind to Valeria’s disposition. It was part relief and part dread to go back to Hogwarts. She enjoyed catching up with her friends on the train, giving out leftover presents she did not want and enjoying some blissful ignorance. Every so often, the urge to spill her guts about that night nearly overwhelmed, but doing so would risk too much. Really, the only person she could discuss it with was Draco and she had certainly tried for the remainder of the Malfoy’s visit whenever they had a moment alone. She could tell from the way he would eye his father when he thought no one was looking that Lucius’s words had taken a toxic root in him too. But whenever she brought it up to him, he would repeat himself; that he was annoyed at what his father said but curious overall, that he wanted to be involved, but that it was ultimately best not to push or pry. Not yet. 

Valeria had caught her father in the main hall of the Winters castle before she left with her mother for Hogwarts Express, staring off at the portraits of sleepy old ancestors that adorned the walls. 

_“I’m sorry I won’t be accompanying you to London,” he said, after she came to stand beside him._

_“It’s alright,” she said. She wasn’t eleven anymore, she didn’t need or want a big sendoff._

_“Do you know who that is?” He asked pointing at a portrait of an uptight looking old woman. Valeria never tried to keep track of all the names. She shook her head. “Egeria Winters. She built this place, rather it was built for her.”_

_“Ah, I remember now,” Valeria said._

_“There was a time when muggles and wizards worked together. Their leaders had us in their courts, and they gave us things, land and wealth, in return. But once they turned on us, when they began setting fire to their own people if suspected of witchcraft, we had to hide.”_

_“Yes, I know,” Valeria said sensing a lecture coming._

_“Do you know what magic is?” he asked, taking Valeria aback at the sudden shift._

_“That’s one of the great questions, isn’t it? What exactly is magic, where does it come from, what is its power,” Valeria said._

_“On a more fundamental level,” Hieronymus said._

_Valeria thought for a moment. “Power”_

_Hieronymus considered. “Yes, some would say so. Lucius Malfoy would likely agree with you, for instance. Some would call it a blessing, others a source of knowledge. But I think differently. Magic is a gift Valeria. A rare one. The question then becomes, what do we do with it.”_

_“I don’t know,” Valeria said. It was far too early in the morning for philosophy._

_“The answer depends on how you view magic. Power should be harnessed and controlled, blessings should be shared, and knowledge should be meticulously studied. But gifts belong to us and us alone. And precious gifts, as magic is, must be protected.”_

_“Protected from what?”_

_Hieronymus let out a gentle laugh. “From anyone who would seek to take it from us. Can you imagine the calamity that would fall upon our world, our way of life, if the muggles of today knew about us? We’ve told you the history. Their bombs that wipe entire cities, what they do to each other for more power. They’re human like us, and so they are cruel like us. They would never allow us to live as we are. That’s why we must protect magic, Valeria.”_

_“Why tell me this now?”_

_“You’re interested in the harder questions, aren’t you? There may come a time when the difficult questions will lead to difficult choices for you. It’s about time you started to think on these things.” He paused. “Forgive me, darling, I’ve been feeling rather restless lately and certain things have been on my mind. It’s probably best you go find your mother.”_

She left her father and departed for London without much ceremony, but his words snaked deep into her mind coupling with the ones she was not meant to hear. She wanted to spill them all out to someone, to reach out and begin to make sense of them. But there was no one. Not even Draco.

Now that they were at Hogwarts, and Draco was far more preoccupied with his friends and abusing his Prefect privileges, she became less inclined to seek him out anyway. She arrived early for Herbology on the first session back, something she had avoided doing since third year when Professor Sprout gave her a pre-class lecture about _“applying herself to her full potential more.”_ Valeria despised Herbology and while she was sure to obtain satisfactory marks for the sake of it, she found nothing more uninteresting than studying plants. However, Herbology was one of the classes that Slytherin had with Ravenclaw, and she was sure to arrive early in order to see Terry. 

“There you are,” he smiled, taking a seat beside her. “Thought you might have dropped out of school.” 

He gave her a quick peck, which she made her heart flutter a little and her cheeks flush pink. A comfort washed over her that soothed her rattled nerves; a feeling that things would settle back to normal now. She hadn’t caught up with him on the train, wanting to spend the ride with her girlfriends instead and he hadn’t made the effort to find him either, probably wise considering the risk of running into Draco unexpectedly again. 

“I missed you over the break. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to get back to school,” she said. 

“Well, I hope you had a nice holiday despite that. How was your break?” he asked. It was a silly question as they had been writing to each other daily, but she appreciated his manners. Her mind went back to the ordeal of being home; the secrets that lurked in the walls and the metaphorical skeletons underneath the aged stones in the floor of the castle. She hadn’t shared that with him, and it shook her with guilt. She should tell him, he was her boyfriend. She was supposed to share this stuff with him, not to mention their mutual involvement in the DA, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She could not betray family secrets, she was far too loyal, even if the secrets were dangerous. 

“It was uneventful for the most part. Yours?” she asked.

“Pretty standard as well,” he shrugged. “My parents are excited I’ve got a girlfriend, dad’s relieved about it, I think. Mum almost couldn’t believe it. She found an old article that your mum did in _Witch Weekly_ , the one you’re in. Quite a read that was.” He said.

Valeria’s heart sunk. _That_ article. Between third and fourth year Odessa volunteered Valeria as part of a mother-daughter feature. Valeria hated the photographers posing her, touching her things to adjust them for their cameras, and the asinine questions the journalist asked exhausted her: _Do you have a boyfriend? Who do you think is the most handsome member of the Weird Sisters? What’s the latest Hogwarts gossip?_ The full article was even worse, edited down and tailored to exactly what the readers were hoping for, presenting Valeria as a miniature Odessa, destined to be the perfect socialite. There was hardly a mention of her pursuits after completing her education or her interests outside of school and boys. She was very embarrassed that Terry had read it, but he seemed to take it in stride and not pay it much mind, which was a relief.

She laughed. “Well, I hope I didn’t make a poor first impression then.”

“Not at all. They actually would love to meet you. You, and your parents of course, are invited over sometime over Easter break, if you want,” he said. Already meeting each other’s families was a daunting thought, putting her parents in the same room as his was even scarier. Valeria had told her parents about Terry in a rather uncomfortable conversation over dinner. Her parents asked after his family, Hieronymus mentioning that he may have heard the name a time or two at the Ministry. They weren’t disappointed, but they weren’t too interested either. Odessa was much more excited when she went to the Yule Ball with Draco, but if either of her parents had their reservations about her and Terry, they didn’t mention them. 

“I’d like that. I’ll let my parents know,” she said. Terry’s face lit up as the other students filed in.

“Great! We’ll make a date.” he said. “Speaking of dates, the next Hogsmeade visit is February 14th and I was hoping that you’d go with me,” 

She lit up this time. “I’d love to,” 

The excitement of having a date, a real date for Valentine’s Day, for the first time elated her for the rest of the day. Draco and she had sort of been together last year’s Valentine’s Day, but the day had come and gone without much pomp. To be fair, their relationship was never technically official. After their surprisingly romantic, as romantic as two teenagers can be, time at the Yule Ball, there was a kind of assumption between them that they were together. They spent much of their free time together, they talked all the time, but it had not gone much beyond that. This year was so very different as she had a real relationship, a real boyfriend, and would have her first real Valentine’s Day. The great leaps just one year makes.

When the _Prophet_ landed by her plate the next morning, her giddiness deflated into shock. The headline over the Azkaban breakout went right through her along with the distressing news about Bode’s death. The conversation she had overheard flooded back to her yet again, and she could not help but panic at the thought of her father or brother being involved. 

“Sad about Bode. He was in the Department of Mysteries, you know?” Draco said, reading over her shoulder. 

“Yeah, I know,” she said, still digesting the words she was reading.

“Makes you want to rethink your career plans, doesn’t it?” he said as if he was telling the funniest joke ever told.

“Shut up, Draco,” she said. She meant it earnestly, maliciously. God, he was awful. He seemed taken aback by the force of her words, mumbled something and walked away in defeat. Not too long afterward, when the school was rife with gossip over the breakout, Valeria was notified via her coin of the next DA meeting.

While her new cauldron was collapsible and fit nicely in her bag, it was still obnoxiously heavy, slowing her down on the way to the meeting. Adding insult to injury was the awkward way she had to walk all the way to the seventh floor in order to avoid the glass vials clinking together in the bag and Valeria was grateful to have made it to the Room of Requirement without any suspicion. The first half of the meeting was dedicated to Harry’s standard practice, though she had noticed a difference in work ethic, the other students riled up with the news of the breakout. During a brief recess Hermione and Terry helped Valeria set up her lesson on potions, both impressed with her new cauldron, though Valeria made sure not to mention who it was from. The room had also been outfitted to accommodate the new need, with cauldrons set up around the room and basic ingredients to work with. 

“Thanks for putting this together, Valeria,” Hermione said. 

“My pleasure,” she said politely. Hermione called the others back and Valeria stood at the front of the room by her own station. She noticed a dreadful look on Ron and Neville’s face in particular, surely recalling their disdain for Professor Snape’s classes. 

“I know Potions may not first appear to be defensive magic, and I’d agree in most cases, but there are some that would be wise to have on hand should you need them. I’ve collected some notes, copied for you at your station. Now the tricky thing with potions is while they are powerful, many of them are complicated to make. Potions that require long brewing times or obscure ingredients are not always ideal, such as the Polyjuice Potion. So, for our purposes, I’ve gone with more basic ones. They aren’t the most powerful, but they are better than nothing. We have an antidote to poisons, a forgetfulness poison, and a basic healing solution,” Valeria explained.

“Why a forgetfulness poison? Aren’t poisons drifting into Dark Magic territory?” Ginny asked. 

“It’s extraordinarily mild. If you take time to read about its properties, you’ll see that the effects are temporary and a lot more predictable than many memory charms,” Valeria said. Ginny had avoided Valeria for many of the DA meetings, she was never outright rude, but it was enough for Valeria to notice. She didn’t mind it terribly and had the feeling that the outspoken Quidditch star and her would not get along too well anyway. That said, the question did irk Valeria, but she was determined to not let it show too much.

“And how are we going to get close enough to a Death Eater to poison them?” Zacharias Smith asked, as if he alone could find the overlooked flaw in any plan. 

“With any luck, you never will. You may also want to keep in mind that in a situation in which you are compromised, taking it yourself may prevent you from disclosing important information,” Valeria replied, feeling no guilt about her assertive tone. The group seemed largely reassured and she began her demonstrations on brewing and storing the potions, going about the room as the students made them. Neville was the most nervous so she was sure to give him encouraging advice, which was producing better results than most of his work in Snape’s classes. 

She was satisfied with their progress, using how well the lesson went as a measurement for how to plan potential ones in the future. She wanted to cover more advanced work, more dangerous material, as that was the most interesting, but she needed to make sure they were capable. There was also the matter of the other students not agreeing with the need for concoctions that bordered on Dark Magic, things that could be used for terrible deeds. Valeria had always been firm in her resolve that the darker areas of magic were worth studying as that was where the interesting questions were held, and the seductive potential of pushing the limits of magic itself was always enticing. 

Such questions would have to wait for another day as their time wrapped up. She congratulated the students on their work, genuinely and felt more confident in their acceptance of her instruction. Hermione in particular was excited as she helped Valeria put her things away, chattering about all kinds of possibilities that had come to mind. 

“That was fantastic! You’re brilliant,” Terry said with an embrace. 

“Thanks. You’re rather good at potions,” Valeria said. 

“You're too kind. It was a brilliant idea to cover potions at all and I’m glad you got to show off a bit,” he said. They kissed before parting, deeper than they had before, and Valeria walked awkwardly back to the Slytherin common room with all her cumbersome supplies, which felt a touch lighter after the brief snog. 

Valeria entered the common room to find it quiet. The students who had not gone up to their rooms yet were working silently on their homework, as the gentle whooshing sounds of the lake gave the room a calming aura. Valeria nodded to a couple acquaintances that saw as she made her way to the girls’ dormitories, but she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard an irritatingly familiar voice.

“Just getting in, are you?” Draco asked. 

“How observant of you,” she said, turning to find Draco relaxing on a sofa.

“Voice lessons?”

“Yes,” she said. He raised an eyebrow.

“Not sneaking off with Boot in the night?” he asked. 

“No,” she said. She had learned that being short with him seemed to keep him at bay. 

“I just have to be sure, as a Prefect it’s my duty make sure you’re following the ru-“

“We both know that’s not why you’re asking. Save your breath,” she said.

“What’s got you all riled up?” 

“I’m not in the mood, Draco,” she said. 

“I can see that, I’m asking why,” he said. It was a trap, she knew it was probably a trap, but she looked at him when he spoke, heard a hint of genuine concern in his tone and saw the lack of animosity in his eyes. She could not help herself. He knew how to talk to her, exploiting her weaknesses, an unfortunate result from knowing each other all their lives. He would set these traps, likely unintentionally, and she would fall for it almost each occurrence but with a little more wisdom for next time. Part of what made even an unsteady friendship with Draco difficult was how he would change depending on who was in the room, like an insecure chameleon. Over the break, he had been far easier to be around, borderline kind, but around others he reverted back to insufferable. Tonight was no different as she sat down on the other side of the sofa, maintaining a comfortable distance, carefully setting down her clunky bag. 

“The Azkaban breakout…Everyone’s talking about it,” she said.

“That’s what’s got you all weird? You worry too much, Val. It’s got nothing to do with you, has no impact on you, and honestly it’s a good thing,” Draco said.

“But with what we heard over Christmas, do you think our fathers were involved?” she asked, whispering and looking out for prying ears.

He rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you that we don’t know what we heard exactly. Our fathers have met privately for years, and each time everything has been fine. It’s probably just Ministry stuff. They’re good wizards, but not even they can bust anyone out of Azkaban,” He explained, not bringing her much comfort. 

“Why is it a good thing?” 

“Well, more of our people are free. Things might actually start to change soon. Besides, Azkaban is a bit inhumane, isn’t it? Forcing people to be miserable or else they get their soul sucked out and all. Not many people deserve that,” Draco said. 

“Your aunt. I’ve heard stories,” Valeria said. He shrugged.

“We’ve only heard one side of those stories. I don’t know her hardly at all, but mum said they were close when they were younger. Honestly, don’t worry about it. You’re way more fun when you relax,” Draco said. She was not naïve enough to believe that he didn’t want this. This was exactly what he wanted, what he prattled on about when he bullied people. Valeria was not unsympathetic to his leanings. She remembered the stories her parents told her, how the muggles burned their own on pyres, how they feared what they did not understand, how threatened they were by anything outside of their philosophies. She feared them too, she feared the exposure that may inevitably come when enough parents and families of muggleborns knew the truth. But, she was not as passionate as Draco was. In truth, politics bored her and she preferred the privilege of being uninvolved. So, while she did have an uneasy feeling about the instability creeping into the wizarding world, she understood why Draco saw it the way he did. 

January moved almost without notice into February and she awoke the morning of the 10thto Daphne and Tracey’s cheers. 

“Happy Birthday!” the girls said.

“All I wanted for my birthday was to sleep in,” Valeria joked as she slowly sat up in bed. 

“You should know by now that our promises mean nothing,” Tracey said. She set a couple of small boxes on Valeria’s lap. “Go on then, open them.” 

Valeria obliged, smiling. Tracey had given her a book of magical puzzles for when she would be bored out of her mind at Quidditch matches. Daphne had given her a set of new parchment for letters as Valeria had been running low. She was grateful for her friends and their thoughtfulness, but had been looking forward far more to Valentine’s Day than her birthday. She next opened her gifts from her family. Her parents had sent her new robes, a book of spells for mending and fixing clothing, and more glamors, of course. Konstantin had sent her a book on magical philosophy and a kind note. She kept the books and the clothes, but gave away the magical glamors to anyone who wanted them. 

 “It’s like it’s our birthdays too,” Pansy joked, happily receiving the majority of the giveaways. 

Valeria was grateful her birthday was on the weekend, meaning she could do whatever she liked. She spent a great deal of time with her girlfriends, catching up on the latest with them that she might have missed during the week; The stresses of upcoming O.W.L. examinations, the latest novel Daphne was obsessed with, and the boys they either couldn’t stand or wished would approach them. As the afternoon came, Valeria went to spend time with Terry just outside the castle. While students had been complaining about the snow and cold for some time now, as they did every year, they still took advantage of free time to go outside. It was cold, but sunny, which helped fight the cold air, as she and Terry sat on a stone bench, close and bundled up in their winter gear. It was so easy to be in his company, she almost laughed more with him than with her friends, and she reveled in the bliss of being so at ease as he talked to her about beautifully silly things.

It came to a grinding halt at the sound of Draco’s voice.

“There you are,” he said, swaggering over to the bench, the snow crunching underneath his steps. Valeria’s eyes went to his gloved hand carrying a small box tied with a dark purple ribbon and he held it out to her with audacious arrogance. “Happy Birthday, Val,” he said, with such a false sincerity that it made her queasy. She could practically feel the tension between the three of them, sensing Terry’s mood sour. She took the gift quickly from Draco without looking him in the eye and hid it under her hands in her lap as if the damage hadn’t already been done.

“Thank you,” she said practically through her teeth.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it? It’s only polite, I thought _you_ would know better,” Draco laughed, pretending to be charming. He looked over at Terry “Always trying to give me etiquette lessons, this one.” He was enjoying the confusion on Terry’s face, the discomfort he was purposely causing, the childish victory that boosted his fragile ego.

“Fine,” she said, not wanting to escalate the situation, hoping that giving him this indulgence would make him go away. She quickly undid the ribbon and opened the box to find a small, elegant necklace with a purple jewel encased in silver on a silver chain. 

“It’s just a little something,” Draco said. It was physically small, but Valeria, anyone with eyes really, could tell it was expensive and far too extravagant a gift for someone who was barely a friend at this point. “There’s a note too.” She found the little piece of paper under the wrapping in the box, and before she could even unfold it, Draco spoke again, “Be sure to read it aloud. That’s the _polite_ thing to do.”

She should have read it before opening her mouth. She should have ended this nonsense.

“ _To the finest girl I know, Happy Birthday. Love, Draco_ ,” she read. When she realized the words that came out of her mouth, she stood up instinctively and was about to unleash a storm of harsh words, but Draco beat her to it again. 

“Like I said, it was only a little something. I’m sure it pales compared to your gift, Boot. What did you get her?” Draco asked, smirking. 

“I’m going to go. I’ll catch up with you later, Valeria,” Terry said, standing as well, glaring at Draco. 

“Terry, don’t. I can expl-“

 “You forgot your girlfriend’s birthday? Oh dear, what have I caused? Hope you’re not in the doghouse too long over this, Boot,” Draco said, as if no one could see through his little show. Terry may not have even heard him, walking away so quickly, despite Valeria’s futile protestations. When he was out of sight, she turned on Draco and threw the boxed necklace at his chest. 

“What is your problem?” She demanded.

“I just wanted to get you a gift, is that so bad?”

“Why? What goes through your head that makes you think this is funny? Why are you trying to spoil this? Why did you have to embarrass him like that?”

“It’s not my fault he forgot your birthday!”

“I didn’t tell him it was my birthday, you ass!” Valeria said, losing control over the volume of her voice.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem either,” he said.

“This is pointless. You and I both know you did this on purpose. Do you just want to show off? Get a rise out of me? Maybe you really are jealous, but no matter what I’ve had enough. Leave me alone!” she said, full on shouting at this point, drawing the confused stares of other students mingling about. She paid them no mind as she stormed off back inside the castle, leaving Draco there with his present, unkindly given, in the snow at his feet.  Her birthday ruined, her foul mood extended into the next day and it went without saying that Draco and Valeria were once again not on speaking terms. No one seemed surprised or the least bit concerned, especially Draco. 

“Do you two plan on keeping this up for the rest of your lives?” Daphne asked over lunch. 

“What?” Valeria asked, snapped out of her daze glaring resentfully at Draco laughing with his two idiot friends.

“This cycle. He ticks you off, you stop talking, and then something happens randomly overnight and you’re talking again. It’s exhausting just to watch,” Daphne replied. Daphne was right, but Valeria was sure this was the final straw, just as sure as she had every other time. 

“It’s complicated,” Valeria said.

“Obviously,” Tracey said with a scoff.

“It can’t be that bad, I mean it was a lovely gift,” Pansy said. Valeria was not in the mood.

“Then ask if he’ll give it to you,” Valeria said spitefully. She spent the Sunday afternoon trying to track down Terry, asking after him to his friends and housemates. She finally managed to track him down in the library after scouring the entire castle. 

“Can we talk?” she asked, skipping small talk.

“Sure,” he replied with a small nod, closing his book. 

“Terry, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, I should have told you it was my birthday and-“

“Why didn’t you?” he asked. She could hear his annoyance, and though she deserved it, it still stung. 

“My birthday is close to Christmas. It’s just days before Valentine’s Day and I-I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I don’t really like it much anyway and I didn’t want you to feel any pressure to do something or get me anything. I know it’s a stupid excuse,” she explained.

“You could have just told me that,” he said.

“I know, I know.” 

“But instead I had to hear it from Malfoy, with a whole performance too,” he said.

“He’s an idiot. He was only trying to get a rise out of me and I gave him hell for it after you left,” she said.

“Yeah, well he seems to have gotten what he wanted,” he said with a sigh.

“You can’t be serious. Don’t let him get to you, he isn’t worth it. I’m absolutely done playing nice with him. He went beyond my forgiveness,” she said. Terry thought for a moment, still a little down.

“Well it’s about time for that,” he said. Even Terry noticed the cycle she was caught in with Draco, which was a bit eye-opening. “But I’ll tell you what. We’ll make Valentine’s a dual celebration, for your birthday too. And we’ll have far more fun than Malfoy ever will,” Terry said. Valeria was so relieved and incredibly grateful for his patience.

“I’d like that, but only I’ll treat you to Valentine’s Day. It’s the least you deserve for not getting yourself in trouble having a go at him, even if he would have earned it.”

“Believe me, it took all my restraint,” he said with a laugh. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it,”

“Me too.”

Valeria’s spirits were high all the way to Valentine’s Day. Triumphant, she was sure to make a public show of holding hands with Terry, laughing and chatting with him, during the days leading up to the Hogsmeade visit. She caught Draco staring a time or two, but he was careful not to reveal too much.  She was sure to look lovely the day of the Hogsmeade visit. She was actually enjoying the process of putting on her glamors when she had a hormone driven reason to do so. Upon arrival, the two chose to avoid Madame Puddifoot’s as it was far too crowded and instead made a day of holding hands and visiting the shops. They had spent a fair amount of time in J. Pippin’s Potions and Dominic Maestro’s, and she bought Terry his own collapsible cauldron at Ceridwen’s, to his delight. They spent more time in Zonko’s so Terry could show her all the devices and gags they had to offer. To her surprise she actually enjoyed it, never before being very keen on pranks, finding them obnoxious. They took a rest at the Three Broomsticks after a long day on their feet. 

“You were right about Puddifoot’s. This was way more fun,” Terry said, setting down his butterbeer. 

“I told you as much,” she snarked back. 

“Well, you got me something. About time I give you your present,” Terry said, reaching into his bag.

“I told you I was treating you,” she protested. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t get a present. To be fair, it is a combined gift, for today and your birthday,” he said, sliding a small package over to her. She opened it with a blush and a smile carefully to find a small soft covered book, with a plain cover and empty pages.

“A journal?” she asked. Terry nodded.

“It is, but it’s more too. If you write in it, the words will appear normal to you, but anyone else who tries to read will find scribbles and gibberish. Enchanted it myself,”

“By yourself?” 

He nodded. “Took me ages to get it right.”

That’s amazing. Thank you, Terry. I love it,” she said genuinely touched by his care and thoughtfulness. They ended the day with a stroll to look at the Shrieking Shack and a private snog before slowly making their way back to the main path and back to the castle. On their way through the town, Valeria saw Harry approaching. 

“Hi, Harry!” Valeria greeted cheerfully. Harry appeared to jump a little when she called his name. “Where’s Cho?”

“Oh, I have to go meet with Hermione about other stuff,” Harry said. He barely looked at her. He was pale and a bit fidgety, which was entirely strange. They weren’t close, but he was behaving as if he was frightened of her. Even Terry seemed to notice.

“You alright?” Terry asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit cold, is all. I’ll-uh, I’ll catch up with you later, have a good Valentine’s,” he prattled quickly, and took off past them.

"What was that about?” she asked when Harry was out of earshot.    

“Who knows, he’s been through a lot with Umbridge putting a big fat target on his back or maybe his date didn’t go well,” he said.

“Maybe. Still, it’s strange,” she said. She had never seen Harry so easily unnerved and she hoped she had done or said something to make him act so odd. But she began to forget it when Terry gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned this one to be much shorter, so my apologies for the length. Thank you for reading thus far.


	8. To Know

_"In your heart, ma'am, what side were you on?" the man interrogated. The sound of "ma'am" making her feel ancient._

_"Whatever side kept us alive, sir," she replied._

*****

Besides the previous summer holiday, this had been the longest Valeria had gone without speaking to Draco. Though that wasn’t strictly true, the only exception being Potions class, where the two had been paired up, but she was sure to keep their interactions to short commands for class purposes only, ignoring everything else he said, which frustrated Draco endlessly. With the drama of her birthday, and the events of Christmas break fading away, Valeria grew more and more confident that her life was settling back to pleasant uneventfulness.

Two letters plopped onto the table before her on a Monday morning in March. She opened the first from Konstantin.

_Valeria,_

_Please take the time to read my words carefully. I am very sorry about all this. I can’t imagine your confusion, but I need you to remain calm. I will speak to you over the break and we will sort this all out._

_Konstantin_

It was perplexing. Konstantin’s nearly perfect penmanship was absent, like he rushed the letter, and he hadn’t even signed his full name. Not to mention, she hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was referring to. She set it aside and read the letter from her father, who almost never wrote to her while she was at school.

  _Dear Valeria,_

 _Believe me when I say I am going to the Ministry with the slanderous nonsense written in that awful_ Quibbler _magazine. I promise that I will sort this out as soon as possible, but in the meantime, I need you to remain calm and save face. All will be well and I will speak to you privately at our earliest opportunity._

_Your father,_

_Hieronymus Winters_

“Val,” came Draco’s voice just before the worry settled in. She looked up at him, his expression angry with a furrowed brow and a letter clutched in his fist. “We need to talk.”

“Not now,” she said.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “Please.” She looked up at him again, unnerved by the seriousness of his tone and though hesitant, and she got up from her half-finished breakfast with her letters in hand and followed him out, finding a secluded corridor.

“What is it?” she asked, arms crossed and impatient. He handed her the letter in his hand. 

_Draco,_

_Do not be alarmed by the slander written in_ The Quibbler _this weekend. I am seeing to the matter and it should not impact you or your studies._

_Best,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

Valeria rolled her eyes and handed the letter back to Draco. “My father and Konstantin sent me letters about this too. What’s going on?”

“Potter went and did an interview with Rita Skeeter about You-Know-Who returning, about what happened last year at the tournament,” Draco said, barely holding back rage.

“And why do our families care?” she asked.

“Don’t you understand? He said there were Death Eaters there, he named them. Our fathers, Val!” Draco said. A chill went through her as time seemed to halt for a moment.

“In  _The Quibbler_?” she asked, the only words that came to mind.

“Madman Lovegood will publish anything, though who knows how he got Skeeter to agree to it. It’s all there in print. Potter has named our fathers as Death Eaters,” he said.

“That’s not possible,” she said, her mind racing and yet her body frozen in place. The conversation at Christmas, her father’s stress, the secrets, all the little things over the years that never added up but that she chose to ignore. “Th-thank you for telling me,” she said, trailing off as she turned to go, returning to her default politeness.

“Val, wait!” Draco called, but she had picked up her pace and was well on her way back to the Great Hall, the corridor outside filling with students on their way to their morning classes. She wanted to see only one person in the sea of school robes and book bags, but could not find her. She went into the crowd, keeping her head down and pushing her way through when needed. She knew where her target’s first class was, Charms, and was determined to get to her before she entered the classroom.

“Lovegood!” she shouted, spotting her long blonde hair from the back.

“Hi, Valeria,” Luna said cheerfully in her obnoxious little voice, unfazed by Valeria’s manic expression.

“Your father’s magazine. I need a copy,” Valeria said.

“Of course,” Luna said and handed Valeria a copy from her bag. “Happy reading!”

Luna’s cheerful well-wishes would have insulted Valeria if she had not been so incensed. She made her way, as quickly as she could without running, back down to the dungeons before any teachers could catch her missing class. She sat on an armchair and flipped through the bizarre magazine until she read,

_HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN_

She read the entire thing, digesting every word and every detail, her mind completely engrossed. Searching and searching for some faint hope that this was all a huge misunderstanding. 

 _“…Nott, Lucius Malfoy, and Hieronymus Winters…”_

Her breathing became shallow and the words were hard to read as her hands trembled. Draco was right, there in print, her father was named a Death Eater. Harry knew. He knew since the end of last year. He let her join the DA, he was nice to her. He never told her. Fear evolved to rage thinking about Harry Potter. How many other people knew? Why did they say nothing? She tossed the magazine in the fire along with her family’s letters when it became too much, watching them turn to ash and smoke as she fought back tears. She stayed in her bed with the curtains drawn the rest of the day, missing every class and each meal. Her emotions bounced all day from rage, sadness, confusion, and fear. She couldn’t bring herself to take any action and she didn’t want to talk to anyone, which was why she was dismayed when Daphne pulled the curtain back.

“I made notes for you in class. I put them on your bedside table,” Daphne said gently.

“Thanks,” Valeria mumbled in reply. Daphne drew in a deep breath.

“Draco wants to talk to you,” she said.

“About what?” Valeria snapped. Daphne shrugged.

“No idea, but just go along with it this time. He won’t stop bothering the girls until you come down,” she said. Valeria rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll be down in a couple minutes,” she said, pulling back the curtains and getting out of bed. She freshened up, fixing her face and hair, determined not to show weakness to a single classmate. It was one of the times she was thankful for the glamors, her trusted mask to hide behind. Other than a downcast expression, she could save face. Draco tossed her a cold bread roll when she came down the stairs.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said, his expression just as stern as it was in the morning.

“I don’t want to,” she insisted.

“Don’t be stubborn. Come on, you can eat that as we go,” he insisted. With no energy left to protest, she followed him out of the common room and down the corridors. For wanting so bad to talk to her, Draco surprisingly had nothing to say as they strolled. She ate the cold roll quickly to occupy herself in the unbearable silence, exacerbated by the tension between them. By the time they reached the second floor, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Did you know?” She asked. Draco stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her, an annoyed expression on his face, but a touch of sympathy in his eyes. He shook his head.

“No.”

Valeria was not convinced. “But our fathers are friends. Yours must have told you. You never saw anything?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“He doesn’t tell me everything, Val. I didn’t know, I would have told you,” Draco said.

“You had to have known something,” Valeria said through her teeth.

“I had my suspicions. Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” he said.

“Just because my family’s pureblood and not fond of muggleborns doesn’t mean that my father is necessarily a Dea-”

“You’re smarter than that. You heard what they said over Christmas. And why else would our families be so close? The Goyles, the Crabbes, the Notts, they’re all friends,” he said.

“Are you calling me stupid?” she asked.

“No,” he said, agitated. “I’m just saying that you had your suspicions too, you just ignored them.”

“You knew about your family, you’ve always known. Why didn’t mine tell me?” she asked.

“That I can’t tell you,” he said, defeated.

“I-I just don’t know what to believe…” she said, starting to break. She had too many questions she didn’t know how to ask and against her will she cried. She didn’t sob, she would not allow herself to disgrace herself like that when anyone could walk by. She looked up when she felt his hands on her shoulders, firm but comforting. He had grown taller, she had to crane her neck more to look up at him.

“It’s going to be okay. The good news is that no one important is going to believe what’s written in that article, Umbridge will do something about it if she hasn’t already, and we can carry on as normal,” he said.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve known this whole time,” she said.

“My father’s name is in that article too. I _do_ understand,” he replied. She thought for a moment.

“Potter’s always been nice to me. He knew for almost a year and he never said anything, not even a warning. I thought we were on good terms,” she said. Draco let go of her.

“He was never your friend. Him and his lot were probably only nice to you so they could use you. And now he pulls this. At least Umbridge won’t let him get away with it this time,” Draco said. He was probably right about Umbridge, and for once Valeria was grateful that she seemed to single Potter out. He deserved what he had coming after what he’d done. “They would never see you as a real friend, you’re too different from them. They don’t understand the first thing about us or our world. Be rid of them and you’ll be happier for it.”

She was starting to believe Draco was right.

“There’ll still be people that believe it and how do I deal with that? My reputation is ruined,” she said. It was her single greatest fear, her good name sullied.

“No, it isn’t. Umbridge will have it under control, she’s on our side. Your family is still in good standing and your reputation is fine. Which is why you’re going to classes tomorrow,” he said.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said.

Valeria gave him a dark look. “The day you give me orders-”

“The longer you wallow, the guiltier you look, don’t you get it? You have to make it look like nothing is wrong or else you’ll look suspicious. Treat the article for the ridiculousness it is,” he argued.

“It’s different for me. You’ve known,” she repeated.

“No, it isn’t. I’m just as mad as you are and you can be as mad as you want, but you have to eat, you have to come to class, you have to look like you’re fine.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“In this case, her advice is good. Remember that it’s just an article in a shoddy magazine interviewing someone who everyone thinks is a lunatic. That’s all it is.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” a voice called behind them. Valeria cringed as she turned to see Umbridge standing there, tight lipped and looking as though the smile she wore pained her. Draco’s entire demeanor changed as quickly as Umbridge arrived, suddenly all smiles and charm.

“Good evening, Professor Umbridge,” Draco greeted.

“Miss Winters, is there a reason you’re out with Mr. Malfoy alone this late in the evening?” she asked. Valeria smiled, trying to follow Draco’s lead, and was about to speak when Draco interrupted.

“It’s my doing, Professor. I know it’s inappropriate, but she was upset about the events of the weekend and I thought a short, quiet walk might help lift her spirits a bit.”

“My apologies, Professor Umbridge, normally I wouldn’t be so bold. Draco was just trying to be a good friend,” Valeria defended. Umbridge smiled with a sympathy so forced that Valeria nearly cracked a smile at her attempt to be genuine.

“Yes, dreadful business. You have every reason to be upset, Miss Winters. Your parents and your brother are such good friends to the Ministry, it’s a shame some would attempt to sully the names of such fine people. As both of you are good students with clean records, I’ll allow this to go unnoticed just this once, but do keep in mind the curfew next time,” Umbridge said.

“Thank you, Professor. We appreciate your understanding,” Draco said.

“Miss Winters, if you are available tomorrow after classes, would you mind coming by my office for a brief chat?”

“Happy to, Professor.”

“Excellent, I will see you then. Now, back to your common room,” Umbridge said, walking by them and turning the corner. Valeria dropped the act and turned back to Draco.

“Now this?” Valeria said.

“You best suck up and stay on her good side,” Draco advised. Back in the common room they found Theodore Nott sitting with Crabbe and Goyle in a secluded area of the room, which was strange as Nott seemed to avoid everyone for the most part, particularly those two. Valeria liked Theodore, though they had never gotten close. Their fathers were friends, but at Hogwarts Theodore kept to himself which Valeria respected. If she hadn’t been such a social person, Valeria reckoned they might be better friends.

“There you two are,” Crabbe said. Draco went right to them and Valeria followed along.

“We were talking earlier about how to go about this, but Theodore said we should do it in private with you included,” Draco explained to Valeria. She didn’t have to ask what _“this”_ was.

“Probably unwise if Umbridge is about to put a stop to all this, if she hasn’t already, like you said,” she said.

“All the more reason to do it before it gets out of hand,” Theodore remarked.

“I say we make Potter aware of what happens when he meddles in things that aren’t his concern,” Crabbe suggested.

“It _does_ concern him if what he says is true,” Valeria said.

“You’re not taking _his_ side? I told you we shouldn’t trust her,” Crabbe said.

“Shut it, Crabbe. We’ve been over this,” Draco said in his annoyed, lazy tone.

“We can’t retaliate,” Valeria insisted. “At least, nothing out of the ordinary and not publicly. We’ll look too guilty.”

“That’s what I said earlier,” Theodore agreed.

“So that’s the plan? Do nothing?” Crabbe asked, Goyle was silent, looking like he was barely following.

“As long as we stay in Umbridge’s favor, we’re fine. No one that has any real power is going to buy what’s in that crackpot magazine anyway,” Draco said. Crabbe looked frustrated being so outnumbered, but he wasn’t about to argue against Draco.

“They’ve all said worse and done worse when it comes to us. If we just treat it as one of Potter’s antics, we’ll be in the clear. We have our parents to think about in how we act too,” Theodore said.

“Theodore’s right. As angry at Potter as I am, we can’t do anything to him directly. If we carry on, we look much more sympathetic and then we can let those with actual power handle it,” Valeria said. The group was in unsteady agreement and they eventually retired, Valeria surprised to find herself debating courses of action with this particular group. She knew then that Slytherin was to become far more insular than it already was and her compliance with this emerging order was absolutely vital.  

She didn’t sleep well that night and awoke wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. There was a brief moment in between sleeping and waking that she did not remember the last day’s events, like it was all some sort of strange dream. It quickly dawned on her that it was, in fact, real and that she would have to face the day painfully acting as though nothing were amiss. She thought to her walk with Draco, surprised that despite their many arguments that he still tried to be a friend. He did understand how she felt and the odd comfort he brought her made her remember the times when they were younger and closer. He even took it upon himself to sit by her at breakfast, probably to make sure she was taking his advice, but for once she did not mind.

Looking around the Great Hall, she caught people from the other houses glancing at her every once in a while, and her mind went wild with all the possible gossip they were saying about her. Others quickly looked a different direction when she saw them, which made her angrier when her eyes landed on Potter, who caused this. He looked down at his plate when she met his eyes and it made her lose her appetite in rage.

“Valeria, can we talk for a minute?” Terry asked. She was so busy seething that she had noticed him approach. She had not thought about him much at all since yesterday morning. She was grateful though, there were things she wanted to get off her chest, but Terry’s nervous expression made her predict what was coming. She hoped that maybe he would surprise her.

“Sure,” she said, plastering on her usual charming smile, following him out of the Great Hall and into a vacant area of the corridor. He bit his lip before he opened his mouth.

“I just want to say that I really like you. You’re so smart and witty, and really pretty. I’ve been having a lot of fun with you,” he rambled. Valeria’s heart sank and she could not hide her feelings with grace, try as she might. Terry didn’t seem to notice that she looked down to the ground as he prattled on. “But I just…I just think it’s for the best that we take some time apart. At least for now.”

Valeria swallowed. “Did I do something?” she asked softly.

“No! Not at all, like I said you’re great. It’s just that…people are talking and with the DA and everything, it’s just a lot and we have to be more careful than ever, y’know?”

“ _The Quibbler_ article, of course,” Valeria concluded.

“I’m not judging you-,” he defended.

“Yes, you are. Guilty by association, aren’t I?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” he said.

“Is it? What are your friends saying? _‘Why are you with the Death Eater girl?’ “How do you know she’s not one of them?’_ ”

“It’s not like that. It’s probably just not smart for now,” he replied.

“Did you even defend me in front of your friends? I wasn’t in that graveyard, you know I know nothing about what my father’s done. Don’t you believe me?”

“I do. I don’t think you’re a Death Eater,” he said.

“I thought you all liked me. Inviting me to the DA, being friendly with me, all of it,” she said.

“We do like you, all of us. Things are just so tense right now. And I have said to the others that you had nothing to do with it. I just want to keep my head down,” he shrugged.

“You do that. Keep your head down and your tail between your legs,” she spat before stepping past him and heading down the corridor.

“Valeria!” he called after her, but she kept walking. She had tears in her eyes. Wasn’t her boyfriend the one person she could trust? The person who was supposed to come to her aid when her reputation and her world were falling apart? A part of her wished he would follow after, see the error of his ways, try to comfort her. He never did, and she just kept walking down to the Potions classroom, wanting some privacy before the lesson began. Perhaps Draco was right. None of them really knew her if they thought ill of her for things she had no knowledge of. She was heartbroken to lose Terry, but more than that she was angry. Surely this would be schoolwide gossip within the hour and she just needed to be alone. She wouldn’t let anyone see her crying about Terry Boot. Other students began to arrive for class, among them Draco who was uncharacteristically early.

“Why didn’t you come back?” he asked. Her face must have betrayed her because his expression changed from curiosity to mild worry. “What’d he do?”

She shrugged. “He broke up with me.” She was dreading the inevitable _I-Told-You-So’s._

“What for?”

“Why do you think? Potter’s bloody interview. Apparently, it was getting ‘too tense’ with his friends and the others, all wondering why he was courting a Death Eater’s daughter,” she whispered, the sadness and anger nearly breeching the surface.

“Pathetic,” he said.  

“But he says it’s ‘just for now,’” she said.

“You wouldn’t consider-”

“Of course not. I have too much self-respect,” she insisted. He nodded, relieved.

“Well, you’re better off without him. He’s not worth it,” he said.

“I know. It’s more the principle. People I’ve always been nice to will barely look at me. And right when I needed him, he ran away and hid,” she said.

He took a seat next to her. “You don’t need him. You don’t need any of them. You’ve got all of us,” he reassured. She could tell in the way he said it that he firmly believed it, and he was beginning to convince her of it too. She was careful not to look over at the Gryffindors too much, fearing what might happen should she allow herself to be consumed with ire. She stuck close to either Draco’s or her girlfriends’ sides most of the day, trying her absolute hardest to keep up a good face. When classes came to an end, she broke from her friends and headed to Umbridge’s office for the meeting she was absolutely dreading. She was welcomed into the pink wonderland and sat opposite Umbridge’s desk.

“You seem in better spirits today,” Umbridge observed. Valeria was careful, remembering all her mother’s lessons which had become incredibly useful. She could read Umbridge well, see straight through her false sincerity and how audaciously blatant it was that the woman had some hidden agenda. But she would not let Umbridge see that she knew so she sat poised, but relaxed. She was dignified, yet sympathetic and approachable, with a soft smile lingering on her perfectly made up face.

“I am. It was such a shock yesterday, but after a goodnight’s rest I was able to relax,” Valeria said.

“I’m very glad to hear that. I’m sure you’re aware, but I’ve banned that awful magazine from this school. Children should not have to read lies printed about matters they don’t understand,” Umbridge said.

“I’m grateful for that, Professor.”

“On the subject of Mr. Potter’s lies, I have noticed that for most of the year you have been friendly with him and his friends. Can you think of a reason Potter might have done this?”

“Well, it is safe to say that Potter and I are no longer friends, and I don’t intend to interact beyond school matters with any of his friends. I’m afraid, Professor, that I cannot think of a single reason why he would slander my family, and others’, like this. My mother taught me to always be kind to people, even those who are struggling or may not deserve it. I tried to be Potter’s friend in hopes that he would see the errors of his ways, but it appears I was too naïve and trusted too much,” Valeria said, lying expertly through her teeth.

“No, not naïve, dear. You were being wise. It is not your fault that someone used your good nature against you. Tell me, has Mr. Potter done anything suspicious lately? Like perhaps he is up to some scheme or plot?” Umbridge asked. Valeria knew she was asking about the DA, or at least knew that something was amiss. How much she knew was anyone’s guess, but Valeria held firm in her resolve, determined to reveal nothing. She would not betray the DA, she owed them a debt for not ratting her out about her involvement.

“None that I can think of. He mainly just seems angry and upset most of the time,” Valeria answered. Umbridge nodded, eyeing Valeria up and down, trying to find some crack in the story, some nervous tick that might indicate a lie. After a moment, she smiled and stood.

“Thank you, Miss Winters, that’s all I wanted. You are a remarkable young woman, remaining so calm under such circumstances,” Umbridge said.

“Thank you as well for your concern and care,” Valeria answered before departing. Valeria decided then that she would be holding onto her DA coin, wanting to keep track of them though she had no intention of ever attending another meeting. Revealing the DA would give her away too, and she could not risk it. As she left the office, she was surprised to find Draco waiting outside for her.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Fine, nothing worth noting happened. Just asking how I’m doing and such,” Valeria responded.

“Right. Can I walk you to dinner?” he asked.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Draco.”

“I’m not babysitting, just asking. My god, Val-”

“Fine, fine. Let’s go then,” she said. Walking side by side with Draco again was odd and he was certainly quick to swoop in at the first chance he got. In a normal situation, it would have irked her, but now it was kind of nice. For one, she was desperate for comforting company, someone who would understand. Also, she missed this version of Draco, the one she thought she knew since she was very young. “You were right,” she told him softly.

“Never thought I’d hear those words from you,” he joked.

“I’m serious. Terry, Potter, the others. They never really were my friends. It was like you said; as soon as who I was, who my family is, became too uncomfortable for them, they all vanished,” she explained.

“Our worlds are too different. They want to take away everything we hold dear. It was bound to happen eventually. You were never like them,” he said.

“Alright, I told you that you were right, but don’t push it,” she warned.

“Fine.”

“How do I face my family? How do I even begin to-”

“You don’t have to do anything for now. The rest of us, the people who know you, we’re all on your side. Deal with the rest later,” he said with a shrug. She felt soothed, in an odd way, like she had arrived home. It was bizarre, but telling, that when it mattered most to her the people she could fall back on were the people that her former friends hated most passionately. These people, this world, was where she belonged. It was all she had ever known and despite the moral quandaries such a situation brought, the sinking feeling in her gut, she felt an unbreakable loyalty to the people closest to her and that was enough.

“Valeria!” She knew that voice and turned to see the last people she wanted to face coming towards her. Led by Hermione, Harry and Ron followed looking more guilty and hesitant than their leader. Draco immediately stepped between Valeria and them, his entire demeanor changing in an instant as if he had been possessed.

“Go to Great Hall, Granger and take the rest of the trash with you too,” Draco spat. Valeria avoided their gaze knowing Draco’s insults would not deter them.

“Valeria, can we talk? _Alone_ ,” Hermione said.

“What makes you think she wants to talk to the people who’ve slandered her family?” Draco said.

“She can speak for herself,” Harry said.

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Ron said. The comment made the blood in Valeria’s veins rush elsewhere. Incensed, she gave Ron a dark look, that made him pale a bit.

“Ron!” Hermione scolded.

“Don’t bother, Hermione. It’s good to finally know what you all really think of me,” Valeria said, stepping forward. She glanced up at Draco who wore a proud smirk.

“Valeria, I can explain,” Harry began.

“You already did plenty of explaining to Rita Skeeter. You lost your chance the second you opened your mouth to her. Though I should thank you for reminding me who my friends really are. Let’s go, Draco,”

“You heard her. Off with you,” Draco shrugged. Hermione looked angry and defeated, but Valeria did not relent her stern glare. Harry looked absolutely guilty as the three of them went in the direction of the Great Hall. “And, Potter! If you or any of your lot so much as breathe in her direction, you’ll pay for it,” Draco took Valeria gently by the arm and began to lead her away from them to join their friends at the Slytherin table.

As time went on, Valeria spent the majority of her time trying to distract herself. The gossip around Potter’s article subsided due to Umbridge forbidding discussion of the article and then Trelawney’s sacking. Valeria occupied her time with schoolwork and catching up with her friends, who she had admittedly neglected some while she was dating Terry. Surprisingly, Draco was also a welcome distraction from her emotional troubles.

As was his nature, Draco had been making a bit of a show of being by Valeria’s side. He sat by her in each of their classes, and she caught him sneering at Terry whenever he looked their way. He was greatly enjoying standing smugly between them, have a rather fun time showing off that he would not abandon her, that their friendship was stronger than whatever her and Terry had. Whether or not that was entirely true did not seem to matter and for once Valeria did not try to stop Draco or scold him for being an ass. Admittedly, she was enjoying how Terry shifted in his seat or looked away abashedly when he saw her and Draco together. It was her own lazy vengeance and, as far she was concerned, Draco could be as much of an ass as he wanted so long as he was sticking it to Terry. He had a knack for keeping people she didn’t want around away from her. He would give her wrist a gentle squeeze whenever one of her former friends looked her way along with a snide comment.

Draco drove the point home as much as he could in public, who her real friends were. He tried to make Valeria laugh as much as he could, whispered his snarky comments in her ear in class, and walked with her to meals. He seemed to be spending more time with her than with Crabbe and Goyle, which had the two of them at a loss of what to do with themselves. In the common room, in private, he calmed down, more the boy she knew, but maybe he was on to something. He seemed to have succeeded in his efforts. She was laughing more, she cared less about the few stares and whispers when he was around, she felt something closer to normal. They were so open about their friendship, in fact, that rumors began to circulate as they are wont to do. Valeria didn’t really mind or bother with quelling them, too emotionally exhausted to deal with more unwanted attention.

Yet another letter landed her on plate and noticing her father’s writing on the envelope, she reluctantly opened it.

“You’re going to have to write back eventually,” Draco said, reading over her shoulder.

_Valeria,_

_Darling, please respond to our letters, this nonsense is distressing your mother. I promise we will speak when we are together next. I am not too worried about the damage this does to our reputation, though I am astonished at the depth of Potter’s delusion and disappointed in how you have responded. Right now, all I ask is that you maintain your dignity. You are still a Winters and I expect you to behave like one. Please send your mother a letter and be kind to her._

_Your Father,_

_Hieronymus Winters_

She quickly folded and shoved it into her bag.  

“You’re the one who told me to do what I wanted,” she said.

“I meant for the moment. They’re starting to bother me now too,” he said, passing her the letter in his hand that arrived with a small package.

_Dear Draco,_

_I am very glad to hear how well you have handled your Prefect duties. Both your father and I are very proud of you. How are your studies going? I hope that you are giving them equal attention. I have included in this letter some of your favorite candies and hope they will help ease your schoolwork._

_I must also ask you a favor. Mrs. Winters has confided in me and is deeply concerned about Valeria’s well-being. Apparently, she has not responded to her parents’ letters since that nasty interview. Mrs. Winters has asked me to inquire, through you, as to how Valeria is doing and if you could ask her to write to her them. I am sorry to involve you in their private matters, but keep in mind our family’s prized friendship with the Winters and your own longstanding friendship with Valeria. It is important that we maintain these connections. Please let me know how it goes._

_All my love,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Valeria rolled her eyes and handed the letter back to Draco. “Of course, my mother would run to yours.”

“They are friends, aren’t they? Mother has a point though, we have to stick together. What should I reply? Remember, I don’t like lying to my mother,” he said.

“You lie to her all the time,” Valeria said.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it,” he said, going through the sweets his mother had sent.

“Tell her I’m fine and that I’ll write to my parents,” Valeria said.

“When?”

“Whenever I feel like it,” she said. Potions went without much incident that day. She was getting better at ignoring the Gryffindors and having Draco by her side, knowing she could count on him unabashedly doing the work of keeping them away, admittedly helped. They packed up for their next class when Snape called for her.     

“Miss Winters, a moment if you will,” Professor Snape said.

“Tell Flitwick I’ll be late. I’ll catch up with you later,” she said to the others going to the front of the classroom. “What I can do for you, Professor?’ He said nothing, but handed her a folded piece of parchment which revealed familiar handwriting. 

_Dear Severus,_

_Please forgive me writing to you directly, especially in regard to a private matter, but I thought it best as Valeria has always spoken highly of you, you are her Head of House, and I trust your discretion. Valeria has not written to her mother or myself since the incident of Potter’s interview and we are growing increasingly concerned for her well-being. We would prefer not to go to the Headmaster with this matter, but we may have no choice if she refuses to communicate with us. If you would please let us know that she is well and urge her to write to us, we would be extremely grateful._

_All the best,_

_Hieronymus A. Winters_

Valeria sighed and rolled her eyes after finishing the letter. “Fine, I’ll write to them.”

“You will do so here and now for me to send personally. I do not enjoy getting letters like that, Miss Winters,” Snape said, setting out writing materials.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Write,” He said in a drawn-out tone. She dipped a quill and ink and began to scrawl on the blank parchment he had given her.

_Mother and Father,_

_My deepest apologies for the inexcusable delay. I have been very busy with my schoolwork as it has grown more intense than in previous years. I am doing well, maintaining my grades and a social life. I look forward to seeing you all over the next break._

_Love,_

_Valeria T. Winters_

She blew the ink dry and handed it back to Professor Snape. She left the classroom without another word and made her way to Flitwick’s class who paid no mind to her late entry.

“What took so long?” Draco whispered as she took her seat.

“You can tell your mother that I’ve done my daughterly duty,” she said. He seemed satisfied, choosing not to pry further. Her former friends had slowly been giving her a wider berth and by the time the weekend arrived, she had hardly noticed them, beginning to accept that things may never be normal, but that she was capable of adjusting to the new normal. Her parents had stopped sending letters every other day and she was relieved to just focus on school and friendships, as any teenage girl should want to do. She was on her way to meet Draco at a spot by the Black Lake, a welcome suggestion from the drudgery of schoolwork on a springtime afternoon, when Hermione and Ron approached her.

“Can we talk to you?” Hermione asked. Valeria noted Ron’s stern expression and Harry’s absence.

“I’m busy, I’m afraid,” Valeria said.

“It’ll only take a second,” Hermione insisted. There was no getting out of this easily and she was a bit curious about what drove them to confront her yet again.

“Are you seeing Malfoy?” Hermione asked, gently but unamused. Valeria laughed.

“No,” she replied. “We’re friends.”

“Sure are getting pretty friendly with him,” Ron said under his breath.

“Considering Draco is one of my oldest friends it would make sense that I’m friendly with him, wouldn’t it?” Valeria said with a shrug. “Besides, I hardly see how it’s any of your business.”

“Valeria, it’s Malfoy. He’s Umbridge’s little darling, he’s made our lives hell-“,

“You can do better than him anyway,” Ron interrupted.

“Funny, that’s what he said when I started seeing Terry,” Valeria said.

“I guess we’re just nervous,” Hermione said.

Valeria scoffed. “I thought you knew me better.”

“Look, I think if you wanted to rat on us about you-know-what that you would have done it already, but the Malfoy thing does have me worried.”

“I haven’t told him anything about what you get up to on the seventh floor and I don’t plan on it. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said before turning to go. Hermione called after her, but she kept on walking, wanting to get out of there before they asked for her coin back, which she had no intention to give over. Fortunately, they had no option for retaliation if they did want it back. Anything beyond begging would reveal themselves to Umbridge.

“It’s a shame, really. It is a beautiful place,” she said. Draco had picked a good spot by the lake and she forgave the long walk it required. They sat by the shore, gazing up at the castle surrounded by trees in fresh spring bloom.

“Sometimes I wish my father got his way and I went to Durmstrang,” he said. She was beginning to understand why he hated being at Hogwarts so much, he’d been complaining since near the start of first year. The people, the politics, the teachers who could barely hold the place together. She grew weary of the steadily increasing chaos that was so far from what she had in mind when she rode the boat across the lake.

“I’m starting to feel like the world’s getting smaller,” she said, absentmindedly.

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” he said, though he didn’t elaborate further. She looked up at him, taking the opportunity in the peaceful moment they found themselves in. He had nice eyes, she noticed for the first time, light and cool colored like silver. Even his white blond hair looked beautiful, the way the wind gently tossed it around his face. She remembered Christmas, how she had found him handsome.

“Thank you,” She said quietly.

“For what?”

“Everything. I know I haven’t been myself lately, but somehow you seem to know exactly what I need.” She said.

“Comes with knowing you since forever, I guess. You’re tough to read, but once you can, you’re an open book. Don’t laugh!” he said, embarrassed that she snickered a little.

“Sorry, it’s sweet, in an odd way,” she said, his cheeks still flushed a little pink. “Well, what do you read then?”

“What?”

“If I’m an open book, what do you read?” she asked. He looked at her, right in the eyes, scrutinizing her almost. Once his confusion at the question withered away he looked soft, gentle.

“I think, what you want most, is to be seen. To be read at all,” he said. She was taken aback by the answer, not knowing what he meant, but it somehow sounded correct. He didn’t explain his reasoning and she didn’t know how to respond, but she allowed herself to hear him fully, moved a bit by his rare sincerity.

“You know, you’re not so hard to read either,” she said. He laughed.

“Oh yeah, and what do I want most then?”

“You want to be liked,” she said. She knew it from the beginning, since they were children, he had never been subtle. He wanted his hands in everything everywhere. He wanted to be important, he wanted to be involved, but most of all he wanted to be liked and admired by everyone he met. It was in how he walked, how he slouched when something wasn’t interesting enough for him, in the way he could charm a room on the rare occasion he wanted to. He wasn’t trying so hard now though as he looked just as taken aback with her response as she was by his.

“I see you, you know,” he said.

“Oh?” she said almost flirtatiously.

He nodded. “Really, I do. Have for a while now.” His own heart raced, he had never talked like this, especially to a girl. It all sounded so stupid when it came out of his mouth, but he meant it. He had to say it. She had to know that he saw her like nobody else did, like no one else ever would, at least so he firmly believed. He saw right through her glamors and her manners. He saw her laugh, cry, and hate. He saw how she would make herself small when she was uncomfortable, how she tapped her long nails on the table when she was struggling with homework. The way she would subtly adjust her posture depending on who entered the room. He believed himself the sole person to recognize that one specific grin she wore when she was talking to someone she could not stand and it always made him laugh a little.

He saw too that she was getting prettier each day. He saw that she was clever, and funny, and determined. He saw her. He saw her every day.

“And do you like what you see?” she asked, with a smirk. It was presented as a joke, but she genuinely wanted to know, for a reason she could not place. She felt like she was falling into one of his traps again, fearing that he would consume her if she gave him the chance, only this time she was not able to put up a resistance and she was enjoying the fall.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, looking down so she wouldn’t see him blush as he laughed. He waited a moment. “And do you like me?”

“Of course, I do,” she said quickly.

“No, I mean, actually like me,” he clarified. His heart was beating fast and his mouth went dry. He had never felt more vulnerable and silly, but the words fell out before reason could catch up to them and were rendered inarticulate and awkward. But like he was put under some spell, he had to ask. He needed to know and the pause between his asking and her answer was excruciating as he held his breath.

She was confused but let herself look into his eyes that she had just moments ago realized she admired. She thought to last year, the disaster that they ended upon, but she remembered their bond before that too. She craved the stability that being with him brought her, now more than ever. He was so familiar, so close. She had known him so long, he was predictable. It was indeed rare that so young they knew each other so well. A bit older now, about to leave childhood behind forever, she acknowledged her feelings. What was since third year a joke amongst their friends was today true; they did like each other. Perhaps they had been more than friends for longer than she thought.

“Yeah,” she answered nervously. “I think I do.”

She felt it then for the first time, though she did not know she would feel it many times before journey’s end, the sensation of joy coupled inseparably with dread. The urge to cling to any good feeling for dear life even as it inevitably turned to smoky memory. Never wanting to leave, that’s what it was. She knew when they entered that castle the anger and fear she had been working tirelessly to stifle would return. So, she tricked herself with a futile ferociousness that there was an ice shard’s chance in hell that this would never end. That she could always be calm by the water, kissed by a warm breeze and that Draco would always be kind and gentle, open and bashfully honest.

When he carefully brought himself closer, when the cologne that he wore far too much of washed over her, when he kissed her softly in the late afternoon sun, when she returned the kiss the urge to plant deep roots in this moment forever only intensified.

But even magic could not prolong a moment indefinitely and she felt a childish shyness flare up in her fluttering heart, a scrap of the innocence that had once seemed so permanent and so quickly had vanished. Draco was triumphant as they walked side by side into the castle, practically strutting and as soon as students began to pass by them in the corridors, his hand darted for her own and her heart fluttered again. Her premature insistence to Hermione that she and Draco were not together looked like a bad lie now.

When she was alone, Hermione’s coin informed her of the next meeting, which she chose to ignore. She chose to make herself scarce in the library Monday evening, the night of the DA meeting. Draco had been talking, suspicious, going on about _“Potter’s up to something. I can feel it.”_ She revealed nothing, that was the deal she made when she signed the paper. It was her head too if they got caught, and she devoted much time in her head to rehearsing what she would say if push came to shove. But she didn’t warn the DA either. She chose to leave them to their own devices even though she knew in her heart the DA was on borrowed time. She retreated, choosing herself and her petty vengeance over anything or anyone else. She returned late, close to curfew to find Draco and a few of her other Slytherin peers up late, laughing and celebrating.

“There you are, dollface. You missed all the fun!” Draco said, embracing her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We got him! We caught Potter!” Draco said to the sound of cheers. Valeria celebrated too. If she had not been dragged off too, she must have gotten away with it unscathed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went long again! I wanted to break this up into two chapters, but it wasn't in the cards this time as I wanted to get this thing moving at a quicker pace. A lot happened here and I hope it wasn't too rushed. Thank you to those who have left kudos and have read this far. I know it isn't much compared to the many other lovely stories on here, but I didn't even expect this much when I decided to post this for funzies, so thank you again.


	9. To Hold

_"What are you doing?" he asked as he entered the room, noting the album in her hands._

_"Remembering."_

_*****_

 

Thankfully, the news about Valeria and Draco’s relationship was low on the priority list in regard to Hogwarts gossip. Now, it was all about Dumbledore’s hasty exit from the school and Umbridge’s promotion to Headmistress. Draco had never been in better spirits.

  
“I wish you’d been there. You should have seen Potter’s face when I got him with the trip jinx,” Draco recounted.

  
“Yes, you’ve mentioned once or twice,” Valeria said, growing weary of Draco retelling the tale yet again.

  
“I told you he’d get what he deserved,” Draco said, half ignoring her blatant boredom. Valeria was relieved she was safe, having not been rounded up with the others, but that only made her predicament more complicated. Her and Draco were closer than they’d ever been, and yet she kept her involvement in the DA hidden from him. And now that the DA was disbanded, there was no reason for its members to hold back from moving against her if they so chose. She could probably lie her way out of it if one of them decided to say anything, say they were just starting nasty rumors again. It was doubtful that Umbridge would punish her given who she and her family were. Her name was her strongest shield. Her mind was still uneasy about the entire thing, and she felt she owed the DA yet another debt of not giving her up and she hated owing anyone anything.

  
“Mr. Malfoy, Miss Winters,” Umbridge greeted from behind them as they walked to Transfiguration.

  
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Professor?” Valeria greeted. 

  
“I am holding a meeting in my office for a select group of students who are supportive loyal to the Ministry and wanted to request your presence promptly after classes today,” she said with a nauseating little grin.

  
“We’ll be there,” Draco said. Valeria hated when he answered for her, but was in no place to decline the invitation.

  
“Excellent!” Umbridge said before departing.

  
“Hear that? We’re probably being rewarded,” Draco said cheerfully, grabbing her hand.

  
“But I wasn’t there when you caught them. Why does she want me?” she asked.

  
“Given who your parents are and that you’re on the Ministry’s side, why wouldn’t she?” he shrugged.

Valeria stood beside Draco in Umbridge’s obnoxious looking office when the day ended alongside many of her Slytherin peers, all whispering about what was about to happen. In fact, the first thing she noticed is that all the students present were in Slytherin. Filch looked just as gleeful as Draco and Pansy as he stood by, anxiously awaiting Umbridge’s every word. Umbridge placed a small wooden box on her desk and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Thank you all for coming. Over the course of my time here, I have observed that there are good students and there are bad students. You all have shown great loyalty to the Ministry and dedication to bringing this school to order. To reward you for your efforts, I would like to invite you to join an elite group of students whose mission is to assist me, and by extension the Ministry, in enacting Ministry policy at Hogwarts,” she opened the wood box to reveal pins, all alike, shining with a large capital I in the center.

 

“I am calling it the Inquisitorial Squad. You will have largely the same duties and responsibilities as Prefects, but as you’ll be representatives of the Ministry, you’ll have a few extra privileges. For one, you can remove house points even from Prefects and I am giving you permission to read owl posts from any student you may find suspicious. I hope you will see this as an opportunity as you move towards completing your magical education to show the Ministry your diligence and loyalty,” Umbridge said.

  
Valeria had no desire to join. It would only add to the stress of hiding her involvement with the DA, the upcoming O.W.L. examinations, and the familial tension she was trying to ignore. Refusing now, in front of Umbridge and all her peers, would only make things worse though. She smiled as convincingly as she could when Umbridge attached the pin to her uniform, accepting the tight spot of being between rock and hard place.

Draco, as expected, was quick to use his newfound privilege almost immediately when he confronted Potter and his friends in the Entrance Hall and Valeria was grateful she had not been there to witness it, though he was sure to tell her all about it and how the Weasley twins had shoved Montague into an old cabinet and he was now missing. She found herself in the library later that day, having decided she was going to keep her head down; wear the pin but take no action unless she absolutely had to. The excitement her housemates had would subside as the novelty of their position would too. 

“Valeria,” Hermione said, approaching from behind, eyeing Valeria’s shining pin as the latter turned to her. Hermione looked profoundly disappointed. “You too, then.”

  
Valeria rolled her eyes. “My situation is complicated.”

  
“First Malfoy, now this,” Hermione said. Valeria gave up.

  
“What do you want, Granger?”

  
“An understanding. What are you going to do?” she asked.

  
“You and the others can do as you please, as far as I’m concerned. Just don’t make me have to do anything about it,” Valeria said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

  
“But you’re so angry with us,” she said.

  
“I am,” Valeria sighed. “But you didn’t rat on me. I owe you a debt. So long as secrets remain secrets, you won’t have any trouble from me.”

  
An uneasy truce passed between them. She retreated to the common room when whatever chaotic rebellion the Weasley twins were starting became too disruptive. Draco was happy to see her, greeting her with a smile and kiss. He had never been more empowered. Finally, in his view, he was getting the recognition he deserved and Potter could no longer rely on his fame or Dumbledore’s blatant favoritism to get him out of trouble. What boosted his ego more than his new pin, more than Potter on the bottom rung of the social order, was that he was with Valeria. Drunk on teenage infatuation, he was elated and invigorated. He knew what people thought of them together, but to his mind she was the most perfect girl in the school, and he would be damned if he let anyone try to spoil it for him.

  
Valeria too had heard what people were saying as the grapevines of Hogwarts snaked around the school. Some were not surprised, having anticapting their eventual coupling for years, others were shocked at the new development, and others yet ranged from disgusted to indifferent. Gossip and chatter had become so inconsequential so fast and she allowed herself to feel the contentedness she craved so much with Draco’s arm around her shoulder, talking on the sofa.

  
When Montague had been found, jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor of all places, after dinner that night Umbridge assigned Valeria the task of informing Madam Pomfrey so she could prepare and Draco had been sent to fetch Snape. Valeria was waiting respectfully outside of the bathroom after her quick errand, shooed out by Madam Pomfrey, when Draco returned with Snape, Draco looking as though he was having a difficult time stifling laughter.

  
“What’s so funny about this?” she asked.

  
“Not this,” he shook his head. “Potter was in Snape’s office when I went to get him, apparently he’s spending his evenings in remedial potions.”

  
Valeria laughed a little too. “Maybe if he paid attention once in a while.”

  
“You should have seen his face. Wasn’t too happy that I found out about another one of his little secrets,” Draco said, laughing again. “How’s Montague holding up?”

  
“Same as when he was found, as far as I know. Hard to tell with all the nonsense he’s talking,” she said.

  
“You’d be confused too if you went missing for days and found yourself in a toilet,” Draco said.

Montague certainly was confused when Snape managed to get him out of the bathroom. He looked absolutely terrible, which was to be expected, but still shocking. She never enjoyed the Weasley twins’ pranks, she thought the two of them were always obnoxious, but this was well beyond their usual shenanigans. This was just vile and Draco’s face fell watching his Quidditch captain mumbling incoherently as he was carried off towards the hospital wing. Valeria felt an instinctive urge for vengeance, knowing there was no need, but she had been feeling a steadily increasing loyalty to those in her own house. With the school more divided than ever, it was becoming clear that they needed to work harder at protecting their own.

When Montague was stable the next day, she picked lilacs for him as they had been beginning to bloom. They were her absolute favorite and she was always sure to harvest some for herself since she found them growing in an odd place here and there on the grounds second year. She cherished them as they didn’t grow well in hills of Wales and they reminded her of her brother, who had enchanted one to grow in the courtyard of her family’s castle for her birthday one year. She reckoned it was the only lilac plant in the entirety of their little valley. She had a secondary agenda though, as she had never been close to Montague and needed an excuse to go see him, morbidly curious about what he had experienced. A gift was her best bet  

  
She arrived at the hospital wing with the lilacs in water, as elegant as she could make them under such short circumstances and was permitted to see him. Unsurprisingly, she found Draco and several of the Quidditch team around Montague’s bed, nodding to them as she placed the cup of flowers on the table beside his bed.

  
“How’s he doing?” she whispered to Draco off to the side. He shrugged.

  
“We’re trying to get it out of him, but his mind’s all mixed up. Apparently he tried to disapparate and that’s how he ended up in the toilet,” Draco said.

  
“I-I heard voices, but they were coming from different places. Sometimes at the same time,” Montague stuttered. “They’d be talking about classes one minute, and then different voices saying something else the next.”

  
“What other voices?” Warrington asked.

  
“I-I don’t know!” Montague said, getting upset. Valeria stepped forward and sat at the edge of the bed and placed a friendly hand on his arm.

  
“What were the other voices saying?” she asked gently. Montague looked at her as if he barely recognized her, his eyes wild and bearing a frenzied expression.

  
“All sorts of things. Talking about things, objects. Something about a Hand of Glory one time. I-I don’t know,” he said.

Valeria turned sharply to Draco who concentrated, his hand by his pointed chin. There wasn’t much more to be gotten out of Montague and Madam Pomfrey kicked them all out shortly thereafter for risk of upsetting him further.

  
“Borgin and Burkes. The cabinet here connects to Borgin and Burkes,” Draco said once they were alone.

  
“Well it doesn’t seem to work,” she said. “You saw what happened to him. Maybe the enchantments around the school prevented him from making it all the way to one place or another.”

  
“It’s possible,” Draco said.

  
“Should we tell Umbridge?” she asked.

  
“What? No!”

  
“You’re the one saying we should suck up to her,” Valeria said.

  
“I doubt she’d even care about it with all she has going on. What she doesn’t know for now won’t her. Let’s sit on this one for now,” Draco advised. He was right in all likelihood. What use was a passage outside of Hogwarts if it was proven not to work, with disasterous results, anyway?

  
Spring break was a welcome relief until she saw the other fifth years crowded around the notice board, the newest posting notifying them of their upcoming careers advice meetings with Professor Snape. Just what she needed, thinking about her future. Of course, this prompted talk in the common room over the fifth year’s hopes and dreams, which seemed to Valeria so urgent and yet so distant that she struggled to care.

  
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Valeria asked Draco teasingly.

  
He sighed. “I don’t know. Father says I should go for something in the Ministry, magical law or something. Says I should go with international law, like your brother.”

  
“I asked what _you_ wanted to do,” Valeria said.

  
He shrugged. “Department of Magical Games and Sports. Maybe I could get them to rewrite some rules. Some of the fouls they have on the books are completely ridiculous. What about you, dollface?”

“Department of Mysteries,” she said proudly.

  
“Haven’t budged at all on that one?”

  
“Not a bit,” she replied.

  
“Your parents alright with it?” he asked.

  
“They haven’t said anything against it.”

  
“You’d have access to important secrets. It’d put you in a fairly powerful position,” he mused.

  
“Which I can’t use if I’m an Unspeakable,” she said.

  
“Yeah, the part with the Unbreakable Vow is off-putting,” Draco said. Valeria was nervous for some reason when she knocked on Snape’s office door when the for her meeting arrived.

  
“Have a seat, Miss Winters,” Snape said as she entered the room. “Tell me, what would you like to pursue in your post-Hogwarts career?”

  
“I’d like to work in the Department of Mysteries,” she said. Snape raised an eyebrow.

  
“You’re one of the first I’ve ever met with to have that goal. It is a difficult job to attain and an even harder one to do,” he said.

  
“Do you not think I’m cut out for it, sir?” she asked, nerves rattled.

  
“I think your intrigue for the great magical questions would make you an ideal student,” he said. “Have you considered a back-up plan?”

  
“Not really,” she admitted.

  
“Have you considered the possibility of pursuing Potions? Your work in the classroom has been especially creative, though you have a great deal more to learn. There are several Potions Masters you would do well apprenticing under, with my highest recommendation, of course,” he said. Even though she was one of Snape’s favorite students, which he had made blatantly obvious over the years, she was still surprised by that level of compliment.

  
“It’s definitely something I would consider,” she said.

  
“Whatever the case, you will require an O in Potions, which I’m not worried about. You will need E’s in History of Magic, Astronomy, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes. You will need at least an A in Charms. Your other courses I wouldn’t worry too much over, though I’m sure you’ll pass just fine,” he said, scribbling the notes and handing them to her. She was thankful the meeting was brief, as she was very much looking forward to meeting him at their favorite spot by the Black Lake.

  
“I shouldn’t have told him about Magical Law,” Draco complained, fiddling with his wand. “I’ll have to take History of Magic for two more years!”

  
“I love that class,” she said, skipping rocks lazily.

  
“You’re the only one who gives a damn about the Christianization of Magic in the British Isles, dollface.” he said.

  
“I think it’s all fascinating,” she teased.

  
“At least you’ll be in that class. I’d die of boredom just like Binns likely did,” he said. “There’s a light at the end of the tunnel now. Just a couple more years and we can kiss this place goodbye.”

  
“Won’t that be the day,” she said, skipping the last rock in her hand. She turned to look at him, the afternoon sun reflecting on the lake was too bright to look at any longer. He wore a little smirk on his face  

  
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with a shy laugh.

  
“The sun behind you and all that, you look beautiful,” he said. “Don’t laugh!”  
With a flick of his wand and a mumbled spell, the old leaves that had been shaken from their branches in the too frequent storms lifted as if blown by wind. They gathered around her, swirling all about, picking up loose dirt. Her hair was taken with it, she welcomed the cool breeze and twirled about with the enchanted wind until the leaves fell back to the ground.  
“Can’t win with you, can I? Try to annoy you for laughing at me and you just look lovelier,” he said.

  
“Do it again,” she said.

  
“What?”

  
“With the leaves. Do that again,” she insisted.

  
“As she commands,” he sighed. When the enchanted breeze picked up she felt her heart lift with it and was compelled to move. She forgot how much she adored dancing. More than the choir, more than the great questions, she only felt free when she danced. It was her instructors and her mother who tired of teaching her long before grew weary of learning. She even saw magic as a sort of dance. Both required fine movement, careful balance, sharp concentration and both offered power and freedom. She moved in practiced steps and that feeling, the one she felt every time he brought her to this place, rose up all the stronger. Of wanting to remain here forever. I’d never wanting to leave. 

  
“Where’d you learn that spell?” she asked, when he ended the incantation.

  
“Charms. You might know it if you paid attention in that class,” he said. “You had me tripping over myself at the Yule Ball. You’re too good at that.”

  
“Just requires some practice,” she said, joining him sitting a bit further from the shore.

  
“Maybe you can show me sometime eventually. Privately,” he said.

  
“I’d like that.”

  
“I, uh, I told my mother. About us,” he said softly. They had been keeping it quiet for now, letting it just be something that happened in their school life, letting the outside world be for time being.

  
“Won’t be long until my mother hears about it then,” Valeria said.

  
“You don’t think she’ll be pleased?”

  
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. I won’t hear the end of it, I imagine,” she laughed.

  
“Is that a bad thing?”

  
She considered. “No. I guess it’s not.”

Her relief at the hasty exit of the Weasley twins subsided when other students took up their torch and followed their obnoxious example. She had been right, her mother was very pleased with the news of her and Draco, asking her more and more prying questions in each letter. Valeria kept things vague with her mother, but became bolder with Draco over the spring break and as the weeks towards exams dragged on, perhaps impassioned by the pause in homework or the warmer weather. They found themselves often alone in alcoves and niches, tucked away out of sight to snog until their lips chapped.

 

Valeria was almost grateful for having joined the Inquisitorial Squad, as it gave them much more freedom to do what two people their age enjoyed most. Even when their studies hit them hard with the dreaded examinations they would soon face, they were entirely too happy to spend the few study breaks they had together. It was foolish, silly, feeling like one of the dumb girls in those romance novels that Daphne loved, but she finally understood why those girls did what they did. She loved being with Draco, she loved being able to get out of her own head and into the arms of another person who wanted her just as much. Young and exhausted with their minds fried, they fell into each other harder and harder each day.

  
Draco’s birthday came with an assortment of gifts from his family and friends, which cheered him from the drudgery of studying. In the common room that evening, he happily accepted her gift, a long cylinder wrapped in glistening golden wrapping, which she had charmed to look perfect. All her work was quickly undone as he tore through the wrapping and removed the top of the tube. He carefully pulled out the contents and unrolled them, joy erupting on his face when he looked at it.

  
“How did you-?”

  
“My brother knows a few people,” she said, almost as happy as he was just watching his reaction. Her brother had hastily responded to the favor she asked for Draco’s birthday though she had hardly spoken to him since The Quibbler incident. Draco spread the gift, a poster with a Quidditch player moving, zooming around the sky pictured, wearing the uniform of the Falmouth Falcons and the team’s motto at the top, _Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads._

  
Draco likely had a dozen team posters already, but what excited him most was the scrawl written on the bottom of the poster, _Happy Birthday, Draco, and happy flying_ , signed with the name of the team’s seeker whose name Valeria could not remember and could not make out in the signature. He looked up at her, beaming with a childish innocence.

  
“This is the best gift. Thank you,” he said.

  
“Only the best,” she said. He thanked her with a kiss and then another. And another.

  
When O.W.L.’s began, she was grateful to have Charms over and done with, far too many spells to remember and perform properly. Herbology went awfully, she thought, but she was too focused on doing well in the classes that Snape advised her on to dwell too much on it. She leapt into Draco’s arms as they exited their last examination the second week, and he twirled her around in his arms, planting a celebratory kiss on her lips before setting her down.

  
“Nothing to worry about now,” he said. “It’s over.” Valeria let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling the weight of at least schoolwork lift from her.

  
“I heard the other fifth years will be celebrating in the common room tonight,” she said.

  
“We can join them, eventually,” he said with a smirk.

  
“Don’t be vile!”

  
“What? Now that those are over, I want you all to myself for a little bit,” he said. He paused looking at her before speaking again. “We’ll see each other over the summer right?”

  
“All the time,” she reassured.

It was a fine bliss, and Valeria was wise perhaps to enjoy it as much as she could.

It would be the last for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on a roll apparently. Fifth year is almost done and I’m anxious to get to the sixth, which I expect will be a much longer installment, chapter wise, than this one. The next chapter won’t come out as quickly as this one as I have a few details I need to work out. Thank you for reading this far.


	10. To Learn

_"What do you make of it?" She asked him_

_"What are you on about now?" he said._

_"The best thing I ever did I can never forgive myself for."_

_*****_

Dolores Umbridge had summoned the members of the Inquisitorial Squad and Valeria obediently followed her overeager peers in the hopes that the situation they were called to quell was simply finding the culprit behind yet another chaotic prank. Given Umbridge’s tight lipped, fuming expression and the fact that she had gathered all of the Squad’s members, Valeria had a feeling that her hopes were about to be dashed. Warrington had a firm grip on a struggling Ron Weasley and Valeria’s mind raced with her options, knowing that she still had not repaid her debt to the DA members.

“Malfoy, Bulstrode, come ahead with me,” Umbridge said as they approached her office. “The rest of you, round up they others.”

Draco and Millicent dutifully followed Umbridge ahead into her office and Valeria was face-to-face with Neville, Ginny, and Luna.

“Come along nicely,” Crabbe commanded, taking out his wand. Valeria followed suit, careful not to show any hesitation. Their opponents were quick on the draw, but were too outnumbered to overpower the Slytherins. Valeria quickly took hold of Luna’s arms and the latter squirmed in her grasp.

“Don’t struggle,” Valeria whispered, trying to sound as nonthreatening, but firm, as possible. Luna relaxed some, but was stiff as Valeria pushed her forward into Umbridge’s office. Ginny was the most enraged of all them, kicking at her captor and struggling with all her might to no avail. Valeria was dismayed, but not remotely surprised to see Potter as the instigator once again. She carefully followed the conversation, watching Potter making everything worse for himself in silence. She eyed the room carefully, trying to think of something to stop this as it appeared Potter would not bend. Hermione looked at her only for a moment, her eyes begging Valeria to do something, anything. With the smallest motion of her head directed to Hermione, Valeria attempted to communicate that she was trying to think of _something_ , but the ideas that came to her were preposterous while Umbridge remained in the room. When Draco, who was thoroughly enjoying everything about these circumstances, left to fetch Snape Valeria thought perhaps another Professor could be of help, but that hope quickly disapated too.

“You are on probation! You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!” Umbridge shouted when Snape had informed her that one could not make bloody Veritaserum within hours, the idiot. Valeria had to think again.

“He's got Padfoot! He’s got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!” Harry shouted to Snape as the Professor was about to make his exit. Valeria looked at Snape, searching his expression for any hint of what the nonsense cry meant, but he gave no such indication that he understood before departing. Growing more nervous, Valeria did notice one thing that could perhaps be taken advantage of. Umbridge was mumbling, frantic, nervous. She was becoming unhinged under the pressure, she was frying. She was vulnerable.

“The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue,” Umbridge said under her breath. Valeria’s heart dropped, almost loosening her grasp on Luna instinctively. She looked to Draco as Hermione shouted in protest and the excitement on even his face had drained a bit at Umbridge’s words. Valeria had to act. She pulled Luna, who she had positioned to be facing away from her, backwards and as close to her own body as possible, trying to make it appear as though she was being rougher than she was.

“On my signal, disarm me and hold me back,” Valeria said rapidly, her voice barely registering above silence so much so that she feared Luna had not heard her. Luna did not acknowledge her or move hardly at all, seemingly engrossed in Umbridge’s anxious delight at the possibility of torturing Potter over Hermione’s screams. As Umbridge was about to utter the curse’s final syllable, Hermione squealed again. 

“NO! No. Harry, we'll have to tell her!” Hermione said, beginning to cry. She had Umbridge’s full attention now, and Valeria was at a loss for what to do as the conversation unfolded. A weapon? What had the DA gotten up to since she parted ways with them? How was Dumbledore even involved? As far as she remembered, he knew nothing in truth about the DA. But Umbridge hung on Hermione’s every word, convinced and not confused.

“Lead me to the weapon,” Umbridge demanded

“I'm not showing...them,” Hermione said, looking at the other Slytherins through her hands. Her eyes rested for a moment on Valeria and an idea came to her. An unspoken plot passed between them, though neither could be fully certain. Valeria became single minded, focusing solely on getting Umbridge out of the room.

“It is not for you to set conditions,” said Umbridge.

“Fine,” Hermione said defeated. “Fine...let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right. Oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll, be able to s-sort you out!”

Umbridge looked terrified again, as she scanned the faces of the other Slytherins in the room. Valeria smirked, looking intrigued, hoping just a little bit that what Hermione said was true. Such a thing, that Hermione notably had yet to fully describe, could help in getting Umbridge out of the school. Draco, whose face always betrayed him, looked especially hungry and Umbridge registered his expression, landing on a decision.

“Professor,” Draco said quickly, “Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Squad should come with you, Valeria and me maybe, to look after-”

“I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?” Umbridge asked to Draco’s offense. “In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You, Winters, and the others will remain here until I return and make sure none of these-“ she pointed to the hostages. “-escape.”

“All right,” Draco said, disappointed. Umbridge led Potter and Hermione out of the room at wandpoint, leaving only the Slytherins and their hostages.

“I still think we should go after her, just to make sure,” Draco said, mind turning as to how he could get a glimpse of whatever Hermione was talking about.

“I think we should stay put,” Valeria said. Draco looked profoundly disappointed.

“Come on, Val. If we aid in the discovery of and anti-Ministry weapon, made by Dumbledore, imagine the rewards-”

“And imagine what Umbridge will do when she finds out we disobeyed her orders,” Valeria said. Draco was growing more frustrated and stewed.

“The find of our school careers, hell we could make it into history books, and you want to stay here babysitting this lot,” Draco said.

“We’re still a part of the effort, Draco,” Valeria said, knowing full well Draco would see it as only a consolation prize. He scoffed in response.

“I think Draco’s right,” Pansy said.

“Yes, I know,” Valeria said, growing impatient.

“Think about it. Umbridge shouldn’t be alone with the mudblood and the lunatic. Maybe they’ll try to use the weapon on her!” Pansy said to Draco’s satisfaction.

“She’s capable and they don’t even seem to know how to use the-the whatever it is,” Valeria argued.

“Well, if you don’t want to go, I’ll go myself,” Draco said, approaching Valeria. He took Potter’s wand from his pocket and handed it out to her, careful to keep a safe distance from Luna. “Hold on to this for me, just in case.”

This was it. She looked Draco in the eyes, wanting nothing more than to not have to do this. She gave Luna’s arm a quick, hard squeeze with her wand hand and reached for Potter’s wand with her left, all the while thinking how her and Draco should never have left the shores of the Black Lake. Luna jammed her right elbow into Valeria’s gut, with more force than was necessary, as Valeria grabbed hold of Potter’s wand. With a cry of genuine pain, Valeria knelt to the floor, purposely dropping both wands in the process.

“How dare-!” Draco said, but Luna tore the gag from her mouth and jinxed him before he could act. All hell broke loose in the just previously tense, but quiet, office. Valeria remained on the floor, clutching her stomach as chaos insued, jinxes and curses flying everywhere. Luna grabbed both Potter’s and Valeria’s wands, and pulled Valeria to her feet.

“What now?” Luna asked her quietly as took Valeria to the edge of the room.

“No idea,” Valeria admitted. She had not planned any further, but allowed Luna to use her as a human shield, knowing her Slytherin peers would not dare. The fight was fierce and Valeria was useless, feeling pangs of guilt as she watched her friends struggle, but she was in too deep now. When the Slytherins were incapacated, Draco himself looking rather unfortunate thanks to the Weasley girl, Ron directed everyone out and into the corridor. Dragged by Luna, Valeria went with them out of the castle and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where they stopped to all catch their breath, but Ginny had seemed to finally registered Valeria’s presence and pointed her wand between Valeria’s eyes.

“Why’d you bring _her_?” she asked, gritting her teeth.

“She’s helping us!” Luna protested. “She told me to take her as a hostage.”

“What? Why?” Ron asked.

“Because as much as I hate it, I do owe you, mainly Hermione, a debt,” Valeria said. Ron seemed to accept her answer, albeit warily, but Ginny was having none of it.

“Then send her on her way,” Ginny said, not lowering her wand.

“If you send me back now, I’ll have to help all the Slytherins you hexed into oblivion who will then rush after you for what you did. Besides, if you do run into Umbridge again she won’t do anything to you if you have me. She can’t risk you hurting me considering how close my parents are to her and the Ministry,” Valeria explained.

“We can handle her ourselves. You’ve repaid your debt,” Ginny said.

“If she was willing to torture Potter, imagine what she’ll do to you lot,” Valeria said. “I hate Umbridge as much as you and want to see her gone. With this, I’m on your side. Now lower your damn wand!”

“Do it, Gin. She’s right,” Ron said and Ginny reluctantly obeyed.

“I don’t trust her,” Ginny said.

“Likewise,” Valeria spat. Her instincts had been right, she couldn’t stand Ginny.

“We don’t have time for this! We have to find Harry and Hermione and save Sirius!” Ron said. Valeria was truly dumbfounded. She had figured this was all about ousting Umbridge, what did an at large criminal have to do with this?

“Sirius Black!?” Valeria exclaimed. Ron rolled his eyes.

“We’ll explain on the way. Let’s go!” Ron ordered. Valeria followed, regretting what she had managed to get herself into. Ron explained everything on the way, how Sirius Black was truly innocent, but it could never be proved, Harry’s dream during his last O.W.L. exam, how they had been trying to contact him via Umbridge’s fireplace, and how they were on a mission to rescue him if needed. The explanation was winding and confusing, but once they made sure Umbridge was dealt with, she could be on their way and leave them to it. She had no time to take in the forest or wonder at what interesting secrets must have been lying in wait between the trees, trying to keep Ron’s story straight. They were discussing possible options to get to London when Valeria heard Hermione’s voice.

“Anyway, Harry, how exactly were you planning to get all the way to London?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, we were just wondering that,” Ron said as the group moved between the trees, Harry and Hermione’s surprised faces coming into view. Hermione looked a bit pleased to see Valeria, who noted Umbridge’s absence. Ron handed them their wands back when Harry’s eyes landed on Valeria, shocked and nervous.

“So, had any ideas?” Ron asked.

“How did you get away?” Harry asked. 

“Looks like we have Winters to thank for that,” Ron said.

“Yes, she gave me a signal to disarm her and take her as a hostage,” Luna said.

“A couple of Stunners, a Disarming Charm, Neville brought off a really nice little Impediment Jinx helped too. But Ginny was best, she got Malfoy-Bat Bogey Hex-it was superb, his whole face was covered in the great flapping things. Anyway, we saw you out of the window heading into the Forest and followed,” Ron explained.

“Wow, thanks, Valeria,” Harry said, sounding genuine.

“I knew you were planning something!” Hermione said cheerfully.

“I owed you one. But it looks like you don’t need me anymore as I don’t see Umbridge anywhere,” Valeria said, short. She was thankful her debt was dealt with, but getting increasingly uncomfortable with all this, surrounded by people who were, at least on some level, her enemies. She wanted no further involvement in their hair-brained scheme and was anxious to get back to the castle.

“Yeah, what've you done with Umbridge anyway?” Ron asked.

“She got carried away by a herd of centaurs.” Harry said. Valeria suddenly realized she would have to get out of the forest on her own somehow.

“And they left you behind?” Ginny asked.

“No, they got chased off by Grawp,” said Harry.

“Who's Grawp?” Luna asked.

“Hagrid's little brother. Anyway, never mind that now. Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or -?”

“Yes, and I'm sure Sirius is still alive, but I can't see how we're going to get there to help him,” Harry said.

“Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?” said Luna.

'Okay. First of all, ‘we’ aren't doing anything if you're including yourself in that, and second of all, Ron's the only one with a broomstick that isn't being guarded by a security troll, so-”

“I've got a broom!” said Ginny.

“Yeah, but you're not coming,” said Ron.

“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny.

“You're too-" Harry began.

“I’m three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosophers Stone, and it's because of me that Malfoy's stuck back in Umbridge's office with giant flying bogies attacking him-” Ginny protested.

“Yeah, but-” Harry started.

“We were all in the DA together,” said Neville, breaking his silence. “It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it? And this is the first chance we've had to do something real-or was that all just a game or something?”

“No — of course it wasn't,” said Harry.

“Then we should come too. We want to help,” Neville said.

“ _You’re_ all in the DA. I’ve helped you as much as I’m willing. Lovegood, if you’d kindly give me my wand back,” Valeria said, growing rather impatient with the bickering.

“But you _were_ ,” Neville protested. Valeria was about to argue back when Ginny stepped toward her.

“Are you going to run and tell your boyfriend what we’re doing?” Ginny asked.

“Don’t be stupid,” Valeria snapped. Of course, she wouldn’t tell Draco, who had far bigger things to worry about the moment anyway given the state of his face. “I’ll handle the Squad.”

“You can even go get help! You can tell Snape-” Ron started.

“Why would you want Snape involved?” Valeria asked.

“He’s on our side,” Hermione quickly explained. Valeria sighed, impatient and exacerbated, pinching the skin between her eyebrows with her long painted nails.

“Never mind, I don’t care. I’ll tell him if you want, I guess, on the condition that I can have my damn wand back,” Valeria demanded. Luna quickly passed Valeria her wand and the latter suddenly felt a little more at ease.

“Wait! Wait, maybe you can help us,” Hermione said.

“I just told you that I’d-” Valeria began.

“No, I mean at the Ministry,” Hermione said. Valeria gaped at her. “Since You-Know-You is there with Sirius, he’s probably not acting alone. He’s probably got Death Eaters with him. If we have you, saying you’re our hostage, we’ll stand a better chance against them. They’ll be much more reluctant to attack if we’ve got the daughter of one of their highest ranking Death Eaters with us.”

Valeria gave Hermione a dark look, enraged by Hermione’s association. Neville’s encouragement meant nothing now as it was very clear that to these people she would always just be a Death Eater’s daughter.

“Absolutely not,” Valeria said.

“But the more people we have, the better chance we have-” Hermione said.

“I said no!”

“We could actually take her hostage,” Ginny suggested.

“I’d like to see you try!” Valeria threatened.

“Valeria, I know this is a lot to ask. I can’t imagine how hard it is for you, but you were on our side once before. You have a chance here to help, to show us who you are. I know you don’t want what _they_ want,” Hermione said.

“You don’t know me. None of you do,” Valeria insisted.

“I know that if you did what they want, you never would have talked to _me_ ,” Hermione said. It was an honorable effort, trying to appeal to Valeria’s moral compass, but the truth of the matter was simply that Valeria never particularly cared about her blood purity or anyone else’s. From the first, she had been far more invested in herself and if her parents had been a little more obvious about their intentions in her childhood, she would have treated Hermione with the same contempt that Draco had.

“You don’t understand,” Valeria said, her voice softening, thinking of what her father would say.

“I don’t expect you to cast curses at your family or friends,” Hermione began. “All you’d have to do is stand there so it’s much lower risk for you than any of us. If something does happen, if they find out the truth, the Order of the Phoenix can help you. I won't force you. The choice is yours.”

Valeria considered. The risk to her was low, but she stood with so little to gain. And what would Draco think? Her relationship with him seemed so unimportant now in the face of such dire circumstances. She couldn’t say this to any of them, but she didn’t want to lose him. He didn’t even know she was involved with the DA. She would have to lie to him and maintain that lie for how long? She had known him since the beginning and figured he’d be involved in her life forever, at least she’d never considered the potential of his absence. Her parents, her friends, Draco, her way of life. She was not ready to turn her back on it all.

But she needed to know the truth.

“I’ve always wanted to see the Department of Mysteries,” Valeria said, calm and quiet. There was a brief pause as the group looked at Valeria, a varying array of expressions on each of their faces. Even Hermione looked surprised, though pleasantly so.

“That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t solve how we’re going to London,” Harry said.

“I thought we'd settled that. We're flying!” Luna said.

“Look, you might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can't sprout wings whenever we-” Ron said.

“There are ways of flying other than with broomsticks,” said Luna.

“I s'pose we're going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?” Ron said.

“The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can't fly, but _they_ can, and Hagrid says they're very good at finding places their riders are looking for.” Luna said, gesturing towards the trees. The girl really was absolutely mad, there was nothing there. Harry though looked relieved.

“Yes!” He said, going to the trees and patting the air.

“Is it those mad horse things? Those ones you can't see unless you've watched someone snuff it?” Ron asked. The Thestrals, of course. She remembered the bewildering Care of Magical Creature lesson where Hagrid introduced them. The class had been duller than usual that day. She regreted committing to this immediately. Valeria despised flying as it was and the thought of flying all the way to London on something she could not see sounded like her absolute worst nightmare.

“Yeah,” said Harry.

“How many?”

“Just two.”

“Well, we need four,” said Hermione. The conversation dereailed into arguing over who got to go to the Ministry and who didn’t, which ended up with Harry giving up on protesting.

“Unless we can find more Thestrals you're not going to be able-” Harry started.

“Oh, more of them will come,” said Ginny.

“What makes you think that?” Harry asked.

“Because, in case you hadn't noticed, you and Hermione are both covered in blood, and we know Hagrid lures Thestrals with raw meat. That's probably why these two turned up in the first place,” Ginny said. It was a clever enough observation that Valeria almost regretted not paying attention in that class.

“Okay, then, Ron and I will take these two and go ahead, or maybe Valeria as hostage, and Hermione can stay here with you and she'll attract more Thestrals-”

“I'm not staying behind!” Hermione protested.

“There's no need. Look, here come more now. You two must really smell…” Luna said.  

“All right, pick one and get on, then,” Harry said. Valeria watched as he and Luna appeared to climb and straddle the air, but Luna eventually dismounted to help the rest of them get on the selectively invisible creatures. Even on the ground it was terrifying. Shaking Valeria groped for something to hold onto, wrapping her arms as much as she could around what she assumed was her Thestral’s neck.

“Uh, Ministry of Magic. Please?” Valeria said, hoping she was directing her voice at the thing’s ear and after a moment of heart-thumping anticipation, she was lifted off the ground and she felt all the blood in her body rush around, making her lightheaded as she held on for dear life, leaving the trees further and further below. She managed enough bravery to open her eyes as they flew over the castle, it would have been a lovely view, the castle was glorious in the evening light, if she had not looked directly down and saw nothing beneath her.

She promptly shut her eyes once again, praying for landing, which felt like it would never come. The others were talking around her, but she could barely hear them, let alone register what they said given her fearful state. She had opened her eyes once more after the sun had set, seeing glittering lights on the black land below, muggle towns and cities, she knew. She had seen it before, but had found the brightness of electricity so visually assaulting. But somehow, seeing them from a bird’s view amazed her and she thought they looked a bit beautiful. She closed her eyes to them, willing the Thestral to turn around or drop her off to give her a break, but the Thestral just followed the others. 

She opened her eyes for the final time as the muggle lights got brighter. And brighter. And brighter. Blinded by how the lights surrounded her and nearly falling off her Thestral at the shock of seeing the ground fast approaching. To her surprise, the Thestral didn’t crash with her onto the hard ground, but landed gracefully, or so it seemed. She nearly wept with relief and clumsily dismounted, still completely shaken from the experience. The others, with the exception of Potter and Luna, all seemed to share her sentiment judging by their expressions. But there was no time to process what had just happened, and Harry ushered them all into the phone box, Valeria once again feared for her life, this time by suffocation. Someone handed her a visitor’s badge and before long they were heading down into the Ministry itself. 

She couldn’t remember the amount of times she had been dragged here on errands by her parents and she had never really taken the time to take it all in. It had always been bustling with people, witches and wizards urgently trying to get to their respective departments and offices. This time, it was empty. Eerily devoid of any person, not a single soul. She followed the group to the lifts and they were lowered down.

“The Department of Mysteries,” a female voice sounded. Valeria lit up with intrigue. When would she ever have a chance to explore this place, the one she strived to have access to, without anyone monitoring ever again? Her mind whirled with the possibilities open to her by this unrestricted freedom. The deepest secrets and questions of magic all at her fingertips. But she wasn’t there to learn about magic, she was there to be a passive bodyguard for Potter and his friends, a shield meant to buy them time if the chance came. She handed over her wand to Hermione, the only person she remotely trusted of the group, and went with them through the various rooms. Each was more fascinating than the next, leaving her with lingering questions as Potter dragged them all around the confusing maze of rooms and doors. The final one, the one Potter had decided was the room he was looking for, was beautiful. It glowed with beautiful, twinkling lights. The ticking coming from all the clocks was obnoxious, but her ears grew accustomed as she took in the glory of this place. Potter led them through the room with urgency, through the shelves, towering above them, making her feel so small, so physically humbled.

But something was horribly wrong. She knew it the second they had reached their destination and Sirius Black wasn’t there. All of this, for nothing, but Potter looked distraught, pale and frantic. He looked about to erupt when Ron looked to him.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“What?”

“Have you seen this?”

“What?”

“It’s-it’s got your name on-” said Ron. Harry went to him and examined the glass sphere, which was interesting, but Valeria was growing more worried. Something was amiss and she looked about the room, trying to take it all in while looking for any hint of the trouble she felt was hurtling toward them. Harry was entranced with the orb, but her heart stopped when she heard an all too familiar voice,

“Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're hurtling toward the end of year five. I was originally going to have this be one chapter, but it was getting absurdly long, so I split it up. I also tried to include as few direct quotes from the book as possible, since that's just a bit redundant. Thank you all for reading so far.


	11. To Run

_"Will you ever believe it wasn't our fault?" He asked, softly, holding her with tenderness._

_"Will you?" she whispered._

_*****_

 

Valeria turned sharply, wide eyed and panicked. There stood Lucius Malfoy on the opposite side, the opposite cause. She remembered him so differently. She had seen him joke with her family, kiss his wife, love his son. The Lucius she saw now was menacing, malicious, full of greed and hatred.

“Valeria!” came another familiar voice. Her breath hitched at the sound, and she saw there, amongst the other dark figures gathering toward the group, her. She took a sharp inhale. He was here, with them. Her thoughtful, loving brother, Quidditch star, expert charmer, Ministry darling. Everyone adored him, so much so that Valeria had often found herself jealous as a child. His dark eyes, his sharp features shaped his frightened expression. Lucius looked at the students, his satisfaction evaporated when his gaze landing on Valeria. Her lip quivered, searching for words to say when one of the Death Eaters took a hasty step forward.

“What are you doing here?” her father said through gritted teeth. Him too. She should have known. How could she have been so stupid? Tears began to prick her eyes as she felt helpless. She felt like a child again, like she did the day that she had accidentally gotten separated from her parents on a busy day in Diagon Alley. She felt a firm grasp on her arm and glanced to see Luna at her side with her wand pointed at her.

“Come here, Valeria. I’ll take you home at once,” Konstantin said, standing beside their father.

“She’s our hostage!” Luna called out. Hieronymus took another step forward, past Lucius, who was negoatiating over the orb with Potter.

“She’s my daughter!” Hieronymus said, raising his wand. “Hand her over here. Now.”

“Not until the rest of us leave here unharmed,” Luna said again.

“How dare you! How dare you raise your wand to a good, pureblooded witch!” A woman’s voice, Valeria knew her from the pictures. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Not to worry, Hieronymus,” Lucius called again. “We’ll collect her once we have what we came for. We can handle teenagers.”

They were all shouting now, arguing between themselves while negotiating with Potter and his orb. Valeria hardly heard a word, she only saw her father and brother, looking urgent and guilty. Konstantin…him too. She should have guessed. She heard what he said over Christmas, read his urgent letter after _The Quibbler_. His charming ways had worked so well that even she had been fooled. She had too many questions that she could not bring herself to ask. He didn’t look like one of them. He didn’t wear Lucius’s expression of single minded determination, Bellatrix’s dangerous insanity, not even their father’s angry and distracted look. Konstantin’s feelings were plastered all over his face, matching her own; devastated, lost, and guilty.

“Valeria, just stay calm. It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’ll get you out of here. I’ll explain everything when we get home,” Konstantin said, he was stammering trying to come up with anything that had a shot at soothing the situation. Yes, home. She wanted to go home to the comfort of their little castle in Wales. She wanted to hear the truth, she wanted comfort. She wanted to be safe. Valeria tried to yank her arm free, but Luna held her firm. Glass shattered as curses were fired just as she was about to turn on Luna and give her hell for restraining her. Helpless. She was helpless. She looked back to Konstantin, neither concentrating on what was happening outside of themselves.

“NOW!” Potter shouted. Valeria turned to Hermione, who threw Valeria’s wand back to her as curses shot into the air. Valeria did not follow suit. Glass shattered, noise everywhere, chaos. Absolute chaos. Shelves swayed and Potter commanded them to run. She looked to Konstantin again but he only shouted her name. With a tug on her robes, she didn't see who pulled at her, she was running, broken glasses raining down all around them. 

Running.

Running.

Running.

Room after room. Door after door. Separated from the others. Alone.

She moved through the rooms, hearing terrible sounds all around. Curses, screams, frantic orders. Her name, she heard her name a few times. She needed to find the way out. She needed to get out of there before worse things happened. The sounds were more distant, she had bought herself sometime. She began to sob, unable to breathe. She would die here, pathetically and alone. Too much. Too much to take in. She couldn’t. She couldn’t. She was too weak. She should never have helped these people. She made for a door.

It was the wrong door.

Fighting everywhere she looked. Neville was screaming. The room with the arch and the tattered. She tried to catch a glimpse of anyone’s face as she came into the room, but it was all too fast. Everything was too fast.

“WHERE’S MY SISTER!?” Konstantin shouted and she found him. He was pointing his wand at Luna. “WHERE’S MY FATHER!?”

She had never seen him angry. She never imagined him this distraught, completely unhinged. Konstantin Winters, the very image of poise and control was out of his mind. His perfectly styled hair a mess and his handsome face marred by cuts and a cruel expression.

Doors burst open, people she did not recognize burst in, beginning to attack. She saw Lupin and Sirius Black. The Order of the Phoenix, they were here. Valeria stood to the side, petrified and motionless.

“Away from the girl, Winters!” The lady auror whose name Valeria did not recall shouted.

“THEY HAVE MY SISTER, YOU-” Konstantin shouted again, but he was struck with a curse and began to duel with the auror. Konstantin's skill was amplified by his fury, but Valeria had to help him. She ran again.

“KONSTANTIN!” She cried desperately for him. He stopped dueling and turned to see her, shaky relief in his eyes. For a moment they found each other. For a moment, for the last moment, she thought everything might be alright someday. 

“VALER-”

A flash of green light, she watched as someone from the Order dodged it and the curse flew through the air, landing on Konstantin.

He fell. He fell so horribly, like butchered meat. His entire weight crashed to the hard ground.

She didn’t know what sounds left her throat, but she felt it hurt as she rushed to her brother’s side. His face was white as a sheet, his body limp, eyes empty. He was nothing. That was it. His life was gone. Her vision blurred, his lifeless face fading as tears filled her eyes and she lost control of her senses.

Someone was pulling her by the shoulders, shouting. The auror woman.

“He’s gone!” she shouted, trying to get Valeria’s attention.

“Don’t touch me!”

“I’m trying to help y-”

Valeria shot a stunning jinx at her. She turned again to her brother and knew she had to tear herself from him. She had to run. With a final look and a silent apology, she stood.

And she ran again. She left him behind.

Through the door.

The spinning.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

The room stopped, the exit revealed.

She ran.

She rode the lift that would not rise fast enough. Sobbing, shaking.

She ran.

The fireplaces. She grabbed the powder and stood in the fireplace.

Hardly able to speak, she tried to force the words out, praying she would not vomit instead.

“Winters’ Castle”

 

And she too was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more and we'll end fifth year. This one is much, much shorter, but I needed a good spot to break up this one and the previous one. Thank you for bearing with me.


	12. Epilogue: Dear Valeria

_And though he'd never get the chance to tell her, not after this night, he felt it so strongly that it seemed to burst through his body_

_She was the best of his life. The best of everything._

_All that mattered._

_*****_

Draco was on a mission.

He had been in a state of near constant extreme emotional fluctuation since Professor Snape had gathered the entirety of Slytherin House in the common room to explain.

_“Valeria Winters is missing.”_

Draco told Snape. Draco went to Snape as soon as he recovered from the fight in Umbridge’s office. They took her and she hadn’t come back. He knew they’d hurt her. 

_“Both the faculty and the Ministry are doing everything we can to find her.”_

Snape had dismissed Draco, said she would be recovered safely. He wouldn’t listen. None of these idiot teachers ever listened. Snape had woken Draco up to tell him about his father’s arrest, shattering Draco's weak heart. He had never hated Harry Potter more.

_“We do firmly believe that she is alive.”_

His mother explained in a letter. Odessa Winters was at Malfoy Manor that night. She remained there still, inconsolable.

_“If anyone has or learns any information that could possibly aid in the effort, please report it at once.”_

Destroyed. It was all gone, in mere hours. His father, his family. Valeria, her father, her brother. Gone. Valeria. Dollface.

He was determined to kill Harry Potter. Plagued with bloody thoughts. Thoughts of her too. He would torture Potter with glee when he found him, he swore. He would have Potter’s head for this.

He marched to the Entrance Hall with a purpose the likes of which he never felt.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his target. 

“You’re dead, Potter,” he said, consumed with darkness.

“Funny. You'd think I'd have stopped walking around…” Potter replied.

He dared, Potter dared. Draco was shaking in rage, blood ready to boil over in untamable fury, threatening to swallow him whole. 

“Where is Valeria?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” 

“Liar!” Draco shouted, even Potter was taken aback at his volume. “Your people took her!”

“We don’t have her. I thought your people would. Now, who would your people be again?”

Draco took his meaning, but even the petty insults could not break him furor.

“You killed her father and you killer brother. If anything happens to her you’ll be dead like your filthy mother.”

“Her father got himself killed and your aunt killed her brother-”

“It was because of you! You’re going to pay. I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to us. To my father...” Draco said.

“Well, I'm terrified now. I s'pose Lord Voldemort's just a warm-up act compared to you three. What's the matter? He’s a mate of your dad, isn't he? Not scared of him, are you?”

“You think you're such a big man, Potter. You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison-”

“I thought I just had,” said Harry.

“The dementors have left Azkaban. Dad and the others'll be out in no time.”

“Yeah, I expect they will. Still, at least everyone knows what scumbags they are now.”

Draco heard enough. It was pointless, but he was too angry to dream of relent. He darted for his wanted but Potter had beaten him to it.

“Potter!” Snape, also a source of Draco’s anger, approached. “What are you doing, Potter?” 

But Draco was too single minded. He didn’t pay attention to what went on between them, only to Potter and what he would do to him if he had not been surrounded. 

“Come, Draco,” Snape said after Potter and McGonagall left. Draco followed Snape back down to his office, sans Crabbe and Goyle. “I know you’re deeply upset,” Snape said once the door shut. “But I would advise against trying to publicly execute Potter.”

“You did nothing,” Draco whispered.

“Pardon?”

“I told you they took her and she hadn’t come back. You did nothing to try to find her!”

“There was no way I could have known-”

“I don’t care!” Draco said, unleashing all of his rage there and then. He had banged his fist on the table, but ignored the throbbing pain. “Where is she?!”

“I’m sorry that I don’t know,” Snape said without a hint of emotion.

“Dammit!”

“You are under an incredible amount of stress, Dra-”

“My mind is crystal clear,” Draco said darkly. “No one can tell me anything! My mother knows nothing. I’ve written at least five times to Winters Castle and nothing! Potter didn’t even know, unless he’s lying. How can you know nothing? If she’s not home and not with anyone else, where the hell can she be?!”

“Miss Winters is an incredibly intelligent and resourceful young woman. I’m sure she is managing and will be found. Professor Dumbledore is working with the Ministry to locate her as we speak-”

“Dumbledore? Since when has he done anything useful? This entire mess is partially his fault!”

“There is no doubt in my mind that she will be found soon and well.”

“She might be found,” Draco said, exhausted from the energy that his ire consumed. “But she will not be well.”

 Draco avoided going outside, unlike the other students who were celebrating the weather. He wanted to see no one, not even Crabbe and Goyle. He needed to be alone, but he could not bring himself to cross the grounds to the shore of the Black Lake. It was their spot and it felt perverse to go there without her. He probably could not bear it for long had he tried. He hoped it was all a bad dream. That Valeria would leap into his arms again at any moment. He was so tired, whether from lack of sleep or emotional weary, he could not tell. His feelings had fluctuated so much, swinging like a wonky pendulum from anger, grief, fear, and deep worry. Guilt was the one he hated the most. He hated himself, just a little, for failing to defend her. The thought of the last time he saw her, dragged out wandless, while he was struck by the Weasley girl’s spell made him nauseous.

He sat on his bed in the empty dormitory, quill in hand, staring at the blank parchment before him. Not a single one of his letters to her had been responded to. They knew she had been home, the Ministry’s report on the Floo Network that night confirmed that much, according to Snape. The ink dripped little splotches on the parchment. He had to try. What more could he do?

 

_Dear Valeria,_

_Please write back. Please tell me you’re safe._

_I need you._

_Love, Draco_

When he had finished, he drew the curtains of his four-poster bed so he could hide more. Overwhelmed, unable to cope, he cried just a few small silent tears.

 

He had told her everything would be fine.

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for completing this one. I am anxious to get going on the next installment, as it's been my favorite to draft. I hope that you stick around for it.


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